


Concept of Joy

by George_Benji, Voiid_Vagabond (Saturn_the_Almighty)



Series: Night Knight Universe [1]
Category: Dream Team - Fandom, Minecraft youtube, Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Magic, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Broken Bones, Coming of Age, Dangerous Situations, Dream Smp, Fight Scenes, First Kiss, Fluff and Angst, Hypothermia, Injury, M/M, Minecraft, No Smut, Peril, Prince!George, Slow Burn, Storms, knight!dream, knight!sapnap, l'manburg, lots of peril, smpearth - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-26
Updated: 2020-11-17
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:13:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 27,994
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26124784
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/George_Benji/pseuds/George_Benji, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saturn_the_Almighty/pseuds/Voiid_Vagabond
Summary: Prince George is having nightmares of a different dimention where a giant monster dwells. When a mysterious stranger from a far away land appears begging for help, Prince George and his Knight are urged to set off and defeat the monster.
Relationships: Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound/Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream/Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), GeorgeNotFound/Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), Skeppy/Badboyhalo
Series: Night Knight Universe [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1916374
Comments: 65
Kudos: 228





	1. boy in the bubble

**Author's Note:**

> \- this fic is set in a royalty au with magic, based on reality and derived from fiction. some things will be realistic, others won't  
> \- this fic is also set in a "minecraft but irl" setting so there are some minecraft mechanics and not everything will work like it does irl but it supposed to in a semi-realistic world  
> \- badboyhalo is the queen in this fic, both fic writers are nonbinary and we think its dumb to have a men = this role vs women = this role so we gave a man all the feminine roles, he's still a man, just titles like "queen" and "mom" aren't gendered in here (there will be other characters who follow this as well but not until way later)

Black night sky. Stars. Large obelisks of black glass reach towards the void. Each breath is like snow. The obelisks cast shadows on the bright white ground. It's as if everything is made of glass. Shiny and shimmering and smooth.

George runs his finger along the ground.

It feels almost wet but his finger comes back dry.

Not unlike a pin dropping, the sky cracks. George falls backward as the largest monster he's ever seen flies at him. He tries to grip at the ground but he can't get any traction, only slipping. 

The monster roars, it's mouth large enough to engulf a house and teeth sharper than any blade George's ever seen.

A single drop of sweat rolls down his face.

He can feel the air rush around him as the monster careens closer.

The black and white void is replaced with sunlight shining in his eyes.

George’s heart is racing, and he’s covered in sweat. His robes are uncomfortably stuck to himself as he wiggles out of bed. His knight stands by his open window, waiting patiently to follow him into the bathroom.

His face is obscured by a silver-white iron helmet, the curved slit in the visor not unlike a grin. George has never seen the face, or the eyes for that matter, that lie beneath the mask. He's always quiet and a little bit cold, but he does the job he's been assigned and never seems to treat it as a chore. Or him, as a burden. Small mercies.

Not that George cares very much about making a "connection" with the man put in charge of personally making sure he doesn't die.

What he cares about in the moments before a fleeting cloud passes over the morning sun is the feeling of terror, of crushing dread, that his dream has left him with. A chill that settles against his bones when he recalls the blinding white and the static sky.

And the beast. A leviathan of leathery wings and razor-edges.

Pushing these thoughts from his mind, he peels himself out of his bed and gets ready for his royal breakfast. His knight follows like a shadow, waiting just around the corner while he bathes and standing beside the wardrobe as he changes his clothes.

Sometimes he thinks it might be funny to make a joke, see if his knight is capable of emotions. But… why would he.

The dining room is a bit ridiculous in George’s eyes. Their table long enough to seat more than fifty people, despite it only ever being the king, queen, George and his knight. The king seated at one side, and the queen on the other. It would be funny if they didn’t write notes and paper airplanes to each other that always ended up landing in George’s meals.

George takes his seat, just off the center of the table and his knight takes the seat next to him. 

“Georgie!!” the queen cooes.

“Good morning mom,” George keeps his eyes down, focused on the table. The dining room’s decorations of glass and crystals covering the walls and hanging from the ceiling a bit too much for him to deal with that morning.

“Oh nooo, what’s wrong?” the queen sounds concerned.

“Uh not… not much, just-” George clears his throat. “I had a really weird dream.”

The king and queen stiffen. “What kind of dream?”

“Well it was-” George’s cut off by the cooks bringing in the breakfast. A few plates with different fruits, breads and jams. The queen reaches for some muffins and George tries to not focus on his knight lifting the visor from his mouth to eat an apple. “It was like a different world. Everything was black and white. There was this giant monster- a dragon I think.”

The queen drops his muffin.

“Bad…” the king trails off, almost like he’s nervous.

George’s knight places a croissant on his plate and stares at him silently until he takes a bite.

“Skeppy…” the queen returns to him. “Georgie, I think it’s time we had this conversation.”

“Just don’t be mad at us for not telling you sooner- You were always a bit of a late bloomer.” The king gives George a smile and George gives him a blank stare. “Sorry.”

“I don’t- What are you guys on about?”

The queen clears his throat, “Georgie there comes a point in every prince’s life when he has to go on an adventure. We didn’t- Usually this happens around your eighteenth birthday, bu-ut yo-ou… You were kind of a late bloomer-”

“Don’t get us wrong,” the king interrupts, “we always had hope that one day you’d have yours, and I’ll be the first to admit that I’d been losing a bit of hope recently-”

“ _Skeppy!_ ”

The king shrugs nonchalantly and George’s knight takes a bite of his apple as his shoulders shake, as if he’s stifling a laugh.

“I still don’t understand what you guys are talking about,” George looks between the two as if it’ll provide any answers. His knight places a piece of toast on his plate and spreads strawberry jam on it. George prefers blueberry but he’d never say that. 

“We have our own powers, me with my touchy-touch thing,” the queen wiggles his fingers as a demonstration, “and Skeppy with his-”

Skeppy holds a hand out and sends a tiny flame dancing across the table to light a candle farther down. His palm glows a residual orange for a moment.

“-yes that.”

"I still don't see what those have to do with my dream." George stares blankly at the two.

"Mmm," the queen taps his fingers on the table. "For princes and princesses, they unlock their magic powers after completing a series of trials in which they defeat a giant monster. For you I think it's safe to say it's the Ender Dragon. Skeppy and I had to kill the Wither."

"Yeah," the king butts in, "we unlocked our powers together and then we were given Invadedland for completing our quest. After you kill your dragon, you will be crowned as an archduke and given some of the land between our castle and L'manburg."

"L'manburg…" George rubs his chin in thought. "I- I'm sorry but _what?_ None of that sounds desirable at all! Why am _I_ expected to kill that beast and _why_ would I want the responsibility of being a Duke?" George scrapes his chair across the floor as he storms off. His knight quick to scramble after, though he grabs a second apple.

* * *

George is deep in thought, wandering through the castle's garden. The garden is enclosed behind glass, snow piling up outside. Their castle in a land of eternal winter, most plants they can grow are sunflowers and roses.

His knight trails behind him, and George has to shake the thought of how his armor isn't unlike the sunflowers from his mind. 

Mindlessly George thumbs a sunflowers leaf, looking between it and his knight from the corner of his eyes. He keeps his hand out, trailing it across the stems of a rose bush, almost recoiling when his skin is pricked. 

But he doesn't.

His hands keep trailing.

He passes the plants and his hand lands on the glass wall.

It's cold.

And almost wet feeling.

It's like lightning shooting through his body.

He pulls his hand away from the glass, as if it has stung him, and leaves a bloody fingerprint.

His knight's armor makes a clanging noise as he moves to inspect George's hand. George tries to pull his hand to his chest, but his knight has a grip of his wrist, holding it in place as he inspects.

George wishes he could say it's just from the rose bush. He wishes his knight would ask what's wrong. He wishes if he stared into the grin-like visor that eventually he'd be able to see his eyes. But instead…

Instead his knight drops George's hand when an attendant rushes into the garden.

"Your Royal Highness George! You are needed in the training room at once!" They're out of breath, seemingly having run halfway across the castle.

"Training?" George sounds deeply lost in thought.

"Yes, your Highness."

"Why training?"

"I don't know, your Highness. We must head there at once."

"If you insist…" George sighs and follows after the attendant, his knight after himself.

* * *

The castle armory has an attached training grounds, although it is just a wide room with creaky wooden floorboards for combat practice and a few archery targets outside as far away as the hill they sit on will allow.

George strolls leisurely across the room, the long wooden boards groaning with every step. The attendant and his knight fall in step behind him, slowing as he approaches a taller man in a plain white tunic. He is holding a sheathed sword at his hip and looking as impatient as he is allowed to in the prince's presence.

"Ugh, not you again," George mutters when he recognizes the man as a swordsmanship instructor that both Skeppy and Bad had tried to get him to take lessons from on multiple occasions.

"Your Highness, please!" The instructor says before George has a chance to turn right back around and leave. "The King and Queen have been requesting your swordsmanship lessons for _weeks_ now. You cannot keep refusing each one. I… I fear it is my life on the line now, your Highness."

George doesn't believe for a second that either of his parents would execute the man simply because of George's decision. He crosses his arms and frowns.

"I don't want to learn the sword. I don't need to." With a knight at his beck and call, within reach every second of the day? Why would he?

The instructor clasps his hands around his sword, pleading. "Please, your Highness. A lesson must take place today or the consequences will be grave. For me, and perhaps even you." He looks about a second away from lowering himself to his knees.

Truthfully, George doesn't want to turn down this poor man's offer yet again, if only because word would get back to the king and queen about it. He glances at the instructor. Behind him, to the attendant, who bows their head. On his other side, at his knight, back straight and hands clasped behind him. Sword hanging at his hip.

George's eyes light up. "Oh, a lesson _will_ take place all right. Just not with me."

"Then… then who…"

"Him." George lifts his chin in his knight's direction. The helmet turns, slow and steady, until he's staring into that wide grin again. If he didn't know any better he might say there was annoyance there.

"Oh? Your knight?" George is offended on his knight's behalf because there is not an ounce of respect in the instructor's voice. "Really? You'd have him go up against a trained swordsmanship master? Bold."

George rolls his eyes.

"Well? Let's see what you've got." He unsheathes his sword, letting it swing towards the ground.

George's knight unclasps the cape he's wearing— a fur trimmed thing, brightly embroidered with a field of grass and a light blue sky adorned with clouds— and folds it twice, handing it to the attendant before taking three steps forward away from them and George.

The blade of his sword slides against the metal collar of its sheath as he pulls it out. It's steel, a light, unusual metal like his helmet. It has a wide blade and a hilt wrapped tenfold with a long, white cloth strip.

He takes a second to swing the weight around and adjust his grip and he slides his feet wider. George wishes he had somewhere to sit and watch this all unfold. The attendant still has his knight's cape dutifully gathered in their arms.

George swears he can _hear_ the sharp exhale of breath from underneath that glistening helmet before he kicks off the ground and lunges forward.

The floorboard _snaps,_ a sound like a mini explosion. His knight slashes with terrifying swiftness at the instructor, he only narrowly lifts his own sword high enough to block the attack. A sharp _clang_ echoes through the room. George is surprised the sword doesn't snap in half. The instructor gets pushed enough from the force that he has to take a step backwards and George's knight ducks low to avoid the retaliatory slash. He flips his sword around in his hand, leading with the pommel, and jabs it into his thigh, likely leaving a nasty bruise.

The man makes a punched-out noise but doesn't flinch or double over, just rears back with his sword over his head in both hands. The knight quickly blocks it with the flat of his blade, pushing back as he stands up again.

The instructor's sword is shorter, narrower and lighter than George's knight's. What he lacks in power he can make up for in speed. His attacks quicken, his blade a blur between the two. The knight blocks every single blow almost effortlessly but with every jarring collision of metal his shoulders creep closer to his ears. He's tense and the grip on his sword is turning white-knuckled. He takes slow steps back and the instructor smirks at the thought that he's gaining ground on the knight.

The two break, the instructor landing one last powerful attack uselessly on the knight's wide steel blade. He hops back a few steps, chest heaving and sword held out in front of him.

George's knight lowers his sword. The tip hits the wood floor. His hands don't loosen. His shoulders stay stiff.

"Had enough yet?" The instructor taunts. He wipes the sweat dripping from his upper lip.

The knight's shoulders start to shake, just how they did that morning over breakfast. George wonders what could possibly be so funny before—

"AAAAARRRGGHHHHHH!"

His knight lets out a scream so loud he can hardly believe it came from a human being. It's more of a roar, really, and he brings his sword up in a wide arc so swift it seems to George like he's slicing the air itself apart.

He doesn't even take a breath, doesn't pause for a moment before bearing down upon the instructor with long, shuddering strokes that send sparks between their blades. It's a miracle _something_ hasn't broken yet.

The knight blocks a side attack that somehow gets snuck in and grabs a hold of the instructor's wrist with a vice-like grip. He grabs the hilt of his sword and pulls it toward him, planting his foot on the same leg he'd hit earlier and shoving him away.

The instructor sprawls out on the wood floor as George's knight holds his sword in one hand and sheathes his own with the other.

There's a beat of silence, only mingled breaths and the scuff of boots on wood marring it's perfection. George hears himself let out a breath— of relief, anticipation? He doesn't know— and suddenly there are eyes on him. He'd been watching the match with rapt attention and now George is staring unashamedly at his knight's eerie frozen grin, the silver-white matching his blade.

George can't be sure, but he imagines they lock eyes for a split second before his knight turns his head away, rolls out his shoulders. He tosses the instructor's blade at the ground where it clatters noisily at his feet. The man is still laying, spread-eagle on the ground in stunned defeat.

George's knight shakes out his shoulders before turning sharply on his heel and leaving the way they'd come. He leaves George stunned and the attendant still clutching his cape.

George is far above running after his knight as he storms off. Usually it's _him_ doing the storming. There's probably something he should be shouting after him about abandoning his duties but all he can do is balk at the defeated swordsmanship instructor and his knight's retreating form. He leaves the training room with a slam of the heavy wooden door and George lifts up his crown to smooth out his hair and sigh heavily. He stalks after his knight, the light and quick steps of the attendant trailing after him.

He doesn't see his knight at first, the hallway turning right outside the door and he takes a second to glance around him. About halfway down the long stone hall with its high ceilings and crystalline chandeliers hanging off silver chains above, he catches a flash of green.

"Sir Knight!" The attendant notices too and runs past him a good distance away, weaving between the very sparse foot traffic in the wide hallway, half of the knight's cape trailing behind them. They stop in front of him, and George can just make out their words from so far away. "You fought well. You must be very strong."

George pauses, leaning against a stone column and watching the attendant circle his knight, unfolding the cape and draping it around his shoulders. They clasp it in the front with the usual gold sun-and-moon brooches, smoothing down the white fur on his shoulders.

The two figures seem to take up the whole of the hallway as his knight steps back and gives the attendant the tiniest bow, right hand around his front and the other tucked behind him. He leaves silently. His posture now relaxed.

George is _above_ running after his knight. He quickens his pace.

* * *

That night, George lays in bed.

His room ripples with the sound of the distant ocean, and snow falling outside his window casts shadows around his room. He’s able to calm his brain enough to focus more on his own breathing than the feeling of impending dread.

His eyes drift closed and his breath begins to feel like snow.

Water dripping in the distance, he’s standing in an expanse of something not unlike snow. He doesn’t feel cold, but he’s only wearing his nightshirt and pants. His bare feet on the smooth white texture of the ground feels almost too familiar.

He takes a deep breath, and shakes out his body when it feels like something’s crawling up his back. A giant gust of wind blows at him, hot and if a temperature could have an intention this would be something evil. 

Something that only exists for destruction.

George stumbles backwards, but catches himself before he tips over. He looks up towards the sky, something large and dark moving around, bigger than anything else he’s ever seen.

A giant mass of wings and scales. 

He takes a deep breath, but it gets stuck in the back of his throat when the monster turns its head to meet his eyes.

Giant beams of bright purple chaotic and evil energy. It keeps George frozen in place for a moment before he trips backwards. 

The ground stretches around him as he falls backward, nothing breaking his fall. The weightless feeling of falling through causing a lump to rise from his stomach to his chest, he stretches out his hands to grip onto something, _anything,_ but he keeps falling.

He screams but it feels like a hand is stuck in his throat and no sound escapes.

The monster dives towards him, the giant mouth opening and the evil darkness inside spilling out, purple particles capable of killing anything in their path.

The razor sharp teeth as big as George himself careening closer with every second. George’s unable to grab anything, he tries to push himself in any direction, towards the ground, towards anything, anything, anything, **anything**.

The mouth clamps closed around George and he screams out in pain, sitting bolt upright in bed, covered in his own sweat.

The door connecting his room to his knight's bursts open as the knight sprints in, wielding his sword and donned only in his boxers and helmet. His head swiveling around wildly from the window to George to the door.

George’s still catching his breath, a hand held against his chest, “Do you sleep in your helmet?”

The knight pauses, standing stock-still, having found there to not actually be any threat. He nods slowly before retreating back through the door.

* * *

George is sitting in an uncomfortable wooden chair, his head leaning in his hand as he struggles to keep his eyes open. His father drones on about inner-kingdom relations with a few of the knights from the land and George has to pretend that he cares.

His knight sits next to him, slouching in his seat and presumably just as bored as George.

“L’manburg likes to think that they’re their own kingdom, but honestly we don’t have to worry about them too much,” one of the knights George doesn’t care to know the name of drones on.

“L’manburg…” King Skeppy taps his chin in thought. “That’s the serf land where our knights live, right?”

The knight George doesn’t know nods. 

“Yeah, I don’t really care about them. As long as they keep the border protected and they don’t actually try to split into their own kingdom, we’re good.”

George rolls his eyes.

“And the Kingdom of Ursus-”

The king holds a finger up to silence the knight. “Ursus is not a kingdom we recognize.”

The knight takes a deep breath. “Your Majesty Skeppy, if we do not recognize them as their own kingdom, it’s very likely that we will end up in a war-”

“ _Sir Finn,_ ” Skeppy sighs, “I doubt that kingdom of _one dude_ would be any challenge for us.”

“Your Majesty Skeppy, _you_ are who _gave_ her that land.” The knight sounds like he’s so close to raising his voice and George is finally starting to be interested. His mind races to ways he could instigate something.

His plans are spoiled by his mom sprinting through the halls of the castle, towards the meeting room. “Skeppy!!! Skeppy!!!! There’s a panda here to see us!!!!!” He’s out of breath when he bursts into the room.

“Bad we’re-”

“Finished finally!” George cuts his dad off as he stands to go see the panda. 

“Skeppy, come see the panda!!”

Skeppy looks between the knights he was meeting with and Bad before sighing and following his wife and son to see what’s going on. “Bad, how is there a panda here, we live in a snow biome.”

“Nooo, not like an actual panda, silly.” Bad laughs and George has half a mind to turn around and sit back in the meeting room.

The three of them make their way to the throne room, George’s knight following behind as always.

The king and queen take their thrones, George stands off to the side with his knight, and Bad nods excitedly at the attendant for them to bring in the panda.

The giant silver doors to the room open slowly, and the sounds of jingling pulls George’s eyes from staring at the crystals hanging from the ceiling towards the door.

It’s as if time slows down.

In walks a man with maybe the broadest shoulders George has ever seen, beating even his own knight. The man is adorned with a panda skin, it’s head worn over the man's own head. He has a cowboy hat hanging from his hip and the spurs on his cowboy boots jingle with each step. A giant axe strapped to his back and a long bow hanging from the other shoulder. A shimmery orange flame emblem on the man’s white top.

He walks past George and his knight, tipping his head at them and giving them a charming smile. It feels like his heart stops for a moment.

The man stops before the king and queen, kneeling into a bow.

“Oh!” Bad giggles, “You can stand up, we don’t really do those formalities here.”

“Sir…” Skeppy trails off, “what is your name?”

The man stutters for a moment before leaning his head up, “Uh… Sap.. Uh- Sappitus Nappitus.” He stands up, puffing his chest out and George looks down at his own feet.

“Okay Sir Sappitus, what brings you here to Invadedland?”

Sappitus Nappitus fiddles with the cowboy hat strapped to his waist for a moment, looking down before looking back at the king and queen.

“Your Majesties Skeppy and Bad, I come from my home… I’m the sole protector of my home and currently there’s a monster ravaging our land… I would never come and bother you unless we absolutely needed your help.” 

“Sir Sappitus, describe what this monster looks like,” the king looks very interested in what the man is saying.

George’s knight taps his elbow against George’s arm before pointing at the panda skin draped on the knight. George raises an eyebrow but when the knights shoulders start to shake George can’t help but stifle a laugh as well.

“It- It’s… This giant monster… A black dragon that shoots purple fire and has destroyed our homes and farms.”

“Skeppy…” Bad mumbles, a very concerned look on his face.

“No, I know Bad…” The king and queen turn their worried looks to George and George’s stifled laughs stop immediately. “George, this is your monster.”

Sir Sappitus looks from the king and queen to George. Their eyes meet and George almost wishes he was back in his dream, falling through the endless ground.

“George, listen to what this monster has done to this knight's home… You know that you can’t put this off any longer.” The queen stares him down. He could always handle being scolded by the king… but the queen was always a different story. The king was straightforward and usually pretty amused, the queen… shows actual disappointment.

“I-I… Yeah, mom…” George looks down at his feet again, before looking back up to meet Sir Sappitus in the eyes.

“Prince George, your Royal Highness,” Sir Sappitus takes a step towards George and tugs the panda skin from his head and holds it in front of himself. “I live across the ocean, in the desert… My home isn’t very big, only fifty or so people live there. We- We lost one of our people the night I left… If you’re able to help in any way… As soon as possible… You would be saving our lives.” Sir Sappitus looks close to tears and George can’t help but feel something pull at him that he’s never felt before.

“We can leave immediately.”

Sir Sappitus lunges forward and tugs George into a hug, his giant arms wrapping around him and holding him off the ground by an inch for a moment before dropping him back to the ground. “Thank you, thank you, thank you! You don't know how much this means to me!”

“‘We’?” the queen questions.

George smiles at the queen and king, grabbing onto his knight's bicep. “You don't expect me to go kill a dragon without my knight, do you?”


	2. sorry bro (i love you)

Leaving the castle and starting their journey takes longer than George would like. He sits on his bed while his knight flits around the room, periodically eyeing the map Skeppy had given them to try and gauge how many days the trip might take and how many supplies they're going to need.

He had sent Sir Sappitus down to the kitchens to pack them some non-perishables while he handles the rest. His panda skin is sitting on the bed next to George, who's been absently stroking the soft fur while watching his knight. Truthfully, George wants this to be over with already. Odds are it'll end in _someone's_ death and there's no point in dragging that out.

George's knight is carrying two packs along with his sword and a small sheathed dagger he's strapped to his thigh. George has never seen it before, didn't even know that his knight owned a dagger. He's put on a heavier gold chestplate than his usual, along with a pair of golden greaves. George wonders how often he expects to be kicked in the shins if he's wearing them. He's also put on shoulder armor, a pair of golden pauldrons if the way his cape sits higher around his neck is anything to go by.

George doesn't own armor, so all he does is put on a more durable pair of boots and have his knight drape his cape over his shoulders. He doesn't usually wear a cape indoors, the castle being heated with Skeppy's pyrokinesis, so he never saw the point in it.

George's knight clasps the cape in the front with the sun-and-moon brooches that they both wear. His helmet gets awfully close to George's face and he wishes his knight wasn't leaning over so much or else he might have been able to see through the shadowy eye slit and catch a glimpse of his eyes.

He takes a step back, smoothing down the deep blue satin fabric of George's cape. His fingers linger on the fur-lined edges of it, the blank grin of helmet betraying nothing. George holds his breath on instinct when his knight lifts his hands off his shoulders. Fingertips brush against his cheeks and he instinctively jolts back, something in his chest stutters. His knight's hands keep trailing up and he pushes his crown to the side, centering it atop his head.

He pauses again, George still leaning away slightly. The metal of his crown clicks under fingernails and he's sure if his knight doesn't move _now_ he'll duck out of his crown and leave.

The weight leaves his head. His chest is still stuttering but he starts to breathe again and his knight grabs onto the straps of the packs he has on his back. His knuckles turn white. It reminds George of the sword fight earlier.

They leave his room, one laden with supplies and the other looking as regal as possible, and walk down the wide stone steps to the entryway where the king, queen, and Sir Sappitus are waiting.

If George were anyone else, he might be concerned that his knight is carrying heavy gold armor on his chest, as well as his own and George's supplies, a sword, and a helmet on his head and the knight accompanying them has an axe, quiver full of arrows, and pack full of food all slung over his back.

But he's not. So he nods to Sir Sappitus, hands him back his panda skin and turns to his parents, both with signs of worry in the creases of their eyebrows.

"Be careful out there," Skeppy says, stepping forward and putting his hands on George's shoulders. "And you two?" He eyes the two knights, gaze narrowing to a point. "Protect him with your lives." Sir Sappitus looks a little intimidated, but George's knight shrugs as if to say "don't need to tell me twice."

The queen nods at Skeppy's words, sending them equally heavy gazes before he nudges Skeppy out of the way and gives George a shining smile.

"You're going to do great. I believe in you, Georgie." He pulls him into a brief hug before pulling away, sniffling a bit and trying to pretend that no one else notices. "Oh, right!" Starting, he reaches around and pulls a sword from his back. George has only ever seen it sheathed and mounted on the wall in the dining hall but he knows that this sword is Bad's prized weapon. The one he used to slay the Wither.

The blade rings as it's unsheathed and it flashes with reflected light as Bad holds it out flat in front of him, one hand on the handle and the other supporting the long blade.

It's huge. George's eyes widen slightly, glancing all the way down the length of the sword. It's hard to imagine the queen ever welding this sword. It looks far too vicious for him.

It's double-handed, made for intense and powerful swings, overhead attacks and sweeping slashes. The blade itself is made of diamond, a shimmering watery blue that he can see clear through, if a bit milky. It looks almost slick with the purple glittering of an old and lingering enchantment.

The handle is wrapped in leather, smoothed and stained from years of hands gripping it. There's a ribbon tied at the end, its teal ends frayed and dye fading. The blade has two chips in the edge near the point. George's eyes linger on them for a moment too long.

"I want you to take this." George snaps his head up to meet Bad's eyes.

"What?" His voice comes out much smaller sounding than he wants.

"She's been with me through everything. I made her with my own two hands, Skeppy enchanted her, she helped me kill the Wither," Bad takes a breath, pushing the sword a little closer to George, "she'll be there if you need her. I know you don't know how but… I'd feel better knowing… that I— that _this sword_ is with you."

George's hands tremble as he takes the sword from the queen. He doesn't know what to say. His mouth hangs open as the coolness of the sword makes contact with his palms.

He almost drops it when Bad pulls his hands away. The weight isn't anything he expected and it takes all the strength he has in his arms to keep holding it up.

"Get home safe with her," Bad adds, patting George on the shoulder before slipping the sheath off his back and transferring it to George. He can only nod numbly, wrestling the sword back into the sheath and steeling his legs to carry the weight of Bad's longsword.

"Do you have everything you need?" Skeppy asks, putting his arm around Bad and holding him tight. "Food? supplies? Do you have the tents?" He directs this last question to George's knight, who nods once and hefts the packs he's carrying higher.

"Okay…" George's parents look at him, the worry having turned to sadness somewhere along the way.

"George…"

George smiles at them the best he can, ignoring the thundering of his heart— the journey hasn't even started, how dare he be so nervous— and nods.

"I'm ready." He's not, really. "I'll be back soon." He hopes he will. "I… thank you."

He loves them. Won't say it, never will. He doesn't _do_ 'I love you's.

"We love you too, Georgie," Bad sniffles, trying his best to keep his composure. Skeppy's hands are shaking around Bad's shoulders. They don't want to let him go.

_You have to do this,_ something in him says. His eyes pass over to Sir Sappitus, his face hardened. _She is a monster, that dragon._

"Goodbye. I'll uh… I'll see you soon."

* * *

The trail from the castle grounds that leads down the hill it sits atop is narrow and hard to find buried under snow. Sir Sappitus takes the lead, having just been _up_ the hill and with the trail fresh in his mind. George's knight follows behind them, bringing up the rear.

George has to focus all his attention on not slipping on any loose rocks with a heavy sword still strapped to his back. He _almost_ keels over one too many times and his knight grabs onto his bicep, holding him the rest of the way down. When he trips again, he doesn't fall. It's as if his knight can hold his weight with one hand and he doesn't know how to feel about that.

As soon as they reach a flatter part, George shrugs his sword off, and heaves it up to his knight. His knight takes the sword and slips onto his own back. 

The group keeps walking for some time.

George is a bit more than annoyed. His toes are frozen despite the boots and each step sinks uncomfortably into the snow. He looks longingly at his knight and Sir Sappitus, and briefly considers asking either of them to carry him. Sir Sappitus is stacked but the knight carries significantly less.

"Sir Sappitus…" George trails, deciding against asking him to carry him. Like theoretically he could with his giant shoulders… 

Sir Sappitus stops in his tracks, George's knight bumping into Sir Sappitus's back. "Yeah, your Majesty?"

"What? No, I'm not a king."

"Oh, sorry… Yes, your Grace?" 

"No, I'm a prince, Sir Sappitus."

Sir Sappitus gives George a funny smirk, "Yeah and I'm a knight."

"Why do you sound sarcastic, I _am_ a prince." A beat passes. "Wait, and you're a knight, what's the point of that joke? Is that even a joke?"

George's knight shuffles from foot to foot, wanting to keep moving.

"What?" Sir Sappitus looks lost. "OH! Yeah, yeah, yeah. I'm a knight."

George tilts his head, prompting him to go on.

"Uh… ma-aybe I'm not really a knight…"

George stays silent.

"I mean- I do protect my home, of course. We just aren't a kingdom… there isn't really anything like that where I'm from. So technically… not a knight."

George scoffs in disbelief, "And next you're going to say Sappitus Nappitus isn't even your name."

Another beat passes.

"Uh… well about that…" he reaches a hand up to awkwardly rub his neck.

George's knight lets out a tiny gasp and he's unsure if it's sarcastic or not.

"My name is just Sapnap. One word. Sap… nap." He smiles.

"Okay… Sir _Sapnap_ , I want something to eat."

"Well I don't think we really have rations for-"

"There's a berry bush right over there." George points and sure enough, poking through the snow is a bush.

"I mean… as you wish, your Majesty." Sapnap walks off toward the bush and George's knight throws his head back for a moment before following.

"How many times…" George drops it and follows.

George honestly doesn't even care about the berries, he just wanted to do something other than walking in a straight line. Which, he supposes, is kind of what this whole thing is about.

"So… what about you two?" Sapnap starts as he leans to pick the berries. "What's your story? I know he's your knight but like… what do you like to do together? Do you know each other's darkest secrets?"

George laughs. "No? I don't know anything about him."

Sapnap looks up from the bush. "What? That's crazy! There's no way you've never talked to each other before. How do you expect to trust him with your life if you don't communicate?"

George shrugs. "It doesn't matter. I'm not dead yet."

Sapnap looks at George's knight, "...can you talk?"

The knight nods his head stiffly.

"Can you talk right now?"

A shake, this time. He crosses his arms too, for good measure.

Sapnap puts the berries in George's gloved hand. "Oh. What's your name?"

A beat.

"Hmm. Nothing… your Grace, what's his name?"

George rolls his eyes, half amused and half annoyed. "We don't talk, how should I know?"

"You don't even know his name?"

An uncomfortable silence passes over the group.

"Okay." Sapnap claps his hands together, rooting himself in the snow. "You know what? I'm not going to cross kingdoms with you two if you're barely even strangers. You," he jabs his finger at George's knight, one hand on his hip. "What is your name?"

"My name's Dream."

"Dream?" George looks at his knight, surprised he didn't know that.

Sapnap clears his throat. "Uh… okay, Sir Dream. What's your favorite thing about George?"

"That's he's not dead."

George gasps, almost choking on a berry. "What? There's not a single thing you can think of?"

Dream turns his head to point at George, "You _just said_ we don't know each other."

Another moment of awkward silence passes over them. 

"Your swordsmanship," George says suddenly, quietly.

Dream hunches his shoulders for a moment, "Huh?"

George looks down at his feet, furrowing his eyebrows. "My favorite thing about you is your swordsmanship. You're very talented. I actually enjoyed watching you put that other guy in his place."

"Oh. Yeah…"

Sapnap looks between the two of them, a giant smile on his face. "See, I think we're really going somewhere with this." And then he turns on his heels and starts off again.

Dream's voice echoes in George's head… he can't get the loop of "you _just said_ we don't know each other" to stop playing. 

He'd assumed that he'd heard his own knight speak before… why wouldn't he know what his own knight sounds like. They'd spent countless nights walking through the castle's garden together… slept literally a room away for the past however many years… eaten every meal together… 

But somehow through all of that, George had never heard his knight's, _Dream's_ voice.

* * *

The snow has yet to seep through George's boots, he's certain it's impossible that his feet are actually frozen…

And yet he can't stop complaining.

"Dream, you are _only_ carrying my mother's sword. You could stand to pick me up as well."

"Your Highness George," Dream has a certain tone to his voice that George can't quite place, "with all due respect I'd sooner toss you off a cliff."

Sapnap lets out a snort and George has to pretend to be only half as amused. "He is also carrying your backpack, your Majesty."

"Not a king, Sir Sapnap."

"Not a knight, your Grace."

Dream lets out a groan, "Please do not tell me you idiots are going to do this every time you speak to each other." Dream claps his gloved hands together and points at George harshly, "He is prince. He is addressed as ' _your Royal Highness'_." Dream turns on his heel to point at Sapnap, "And he is a nobody, he doesn't have a title."

George and Sapnap stare at a Dream for a moment.

"No, that is so unfair he is not nobody- I wouldn't say he has to be addressed that way it's not like he'll never be anything other than- why would you call him that Dream that's so rude- a prince so I don't really see-"

"Oh my god, both of you shut up and let's keep going, we should be passing by a village soon," Dream points at his map before heading off south.

"Thank the lords, we can stop for a rest soon," George rejoices.

"Funny, your Royal Dumbass," Dream snickers and Sapnap yawns to cover his own laughter.

"You know I liked you better when you weren't talking."

"The way you keep talking to me despite that says otherwise but okay."

George rolls his eyes. "How soon should we be in the village?" 

"What? No, we're not going into the village, we're just passing by it. Should be less than an hour before we see the first one, another hour until we pass them both and then we walk until the sun starts setting." Dream points off in the distance as if over the fog and bright snow he could make out either village.

"What exactly do you mean we're going to be walking until sunset?" George speaks slowly, enunciating each word.

"I mean if we're going to get to the blazes before the dragon murders an entire village, we are going to walk until sunset." 

Sapnap tightens his grip on his backpacks straps for a moment.

"Blazes?" George questions.

Dream stops in his tracks and his helmet moves slowly until the sadistic grin-like visor is pointed at George. "Don't tell me we're going to kill a dragon and you _don't even know what blazes are_."

George shrugs, as if this is not something imperative for him to know.

"Dude," Sapnap laughs, "maybe I went to the wrong kingdom to beg for someone to save my people."

"I-" George groans, "could you two maybe just explain to me rather than making fun of me?"

"Basically you need to get these like greenish stones to open the portal. Blazes are these creatures made of fire that live in the Nether. Though I think it's, what-?" Dream cuts himself off turning towards Sapnap.

"Some pig took over and it's the 'Antarctic Empire' now." Sapnap holds up air quotes when he says the name.

"I still don't understand what blazes have to do with this."

"They're made of fire and they drop this like glittery fire dust stuff that you put on ender pearls to make the eyes of ender to open the portal to the End where the dragon lives."

There's a pause.

"Please, your Highness, do _not_ tell me you don't know what ender pearls are." Dream's practically begging.

"No I- _Of course_ I know what those are." It's true, though the only reason he knew was why Dream was even his knight.

He was walking through his garden one night, unable to sleep, and a purple smoke had gathered by the glass separating the garden from the outside. He'd pressed his face against the glass, trying to find the source of the vapor. Hiding in the darkness was a tall, lanky creature made of smoke and night sky. 

It's eyes were a glowing purple and when it met George's it felt like a violent buzzing went through his skull and suddenly the monster was gone. He'd turned around and there it was, peering down at him with nothing but malicious intent.

He'd run screaming, the monster somehow moving itself faster than George's eyes could follow it. It followed him as he ran to find the nearest knight, a new recruit to the castle's small defense. 

Without a word the knight drew his sword and cut down the monster, putting himself in front of George to save his life. George then demanded that the knight be his own so that situation never happened again. He also went to the castle's library and spent days reading every book he could find on the monster he'd come face to face with.

"Of course I know what ender pearls are," George mumbles.

"Good," Dream laughs before starting off again.

On one hand Dream was right when he said it wouldn't be long before they passed the villages but on the other it feels like an eternity.

"And you're certain we can't stop? Not even for a quick meal?" George whines.

"Your Grace, it would take at least another few hours from our trip if we went to either village," Sapnap states.

George gazes longingly into the distance at the little wooden homes on the horizon, smoke blowing from their warm, warm homes. Sure this quest is a righteous one, but at what cost?

"Sir Sapnap, my legs are killing me. If you speak to me in such a manner I hope that you aim to carry me the rest of the way."

"I mean…" Sapnap breaks his hands from holding the straps of his bag and holds his forearms out. "As you wish." Sapnap gives George a kind smile and he has half a mind to ask Dream to behead the man.

"No, I wasn't-" George is cut off when Sapnap swoops him off his feet. Sapnap's chest is warm but George freezes for a moment anyway. "Sir Sapnap, I demand you put me down at once." George crosses his arms for good measure.

"Is that not what you've been begging us to do for hours now?" Dream laughs until his foot sinks half a foot more into the snow than he'd expected and he stumbles forward.

"I do not appreciate these jokes at my expense."

Sapnap laughs as well, his eyes crinkling at the edges as he meets George's. It's the first time George has really focused on the man's eyes and he's surprised to find that they're two different colors.

"Sir Sapnap," George says a bit more breathlessly than he'd hope, "your eyes are two different colors."

Sapnap laughs even more, "So are yours."

George looks away out of instinct.

He was used to being stared at when other monarchs came to meet his parents. Used to being whispered about and laughed at… not the other person smiling fondly as their own eyes shined two different shades.

"What are they, like dark blue and brown?" George squints to see them better. "Or are they like green and blue?" 

Sapnap's face screws up as more laughter rakes out of him, he squeezes George closer to himself to keep from doubling over.

"Let me see," Dream stops and leans his face in, the metal of his helmet inches away from George's face and his nose practically touching Sapnap's, "your Highness, they're orange and purple."

"Oh…"

Dream turns his head so his nose is almost touching George's and he almost recoils.

"Yours are still blue and brown."

"Thank you Dream, but I have not forgotten my own eye color."

Dream shrugs and keeps walking.

"Why did you need Dream to tell you what color my eyes are?" Sapnap's smiling oddly at George and it's weird but George swears he could just lean closer and-

"He's color blind," Dream answers.

"Oh… I see… I mean you don't, but I do."

George laughs awkwardly before looking away from Sapnap and off in the direction they're walking.

* * *

At some point Sapnap drops George back onto his own feet, and they continue walking until they reach the river. The sun doesn't set for another hour according to Sapnap, but Dream says that they should wait to cross until the next day since it seems to have frozen solid and is the halfway mark.

George finds a nice rock to sit on while Dream sets up the tents and Sapnap starts a fire.

Sapnap joins George beside the fire, gathering everyone's dinner rations for that night. Sapnap and George watch Dream as he raises the visor just enough to put food in his mouth.

"So you're not gonna take the helmet off?" Sapnap teases.

"In the years I've known him, he's always worn it," George states, trying not to stare at the way Dream chews his food.

"Even to bed?" Sapnap jokes.

"Yes."

"Wait, what?" Sapnap rounds on Dream, "You're joking."

Dream smiles and shrugs and George realizes this is the first time he's ever seen Dream smile.

The sun continues to sink lower on the horizon, the sky now just a smudge of pink and orange. 

"Who's taking first watch for strays?" Sapnap asks.

"Huh?" George eyes him.

"The strays, who's going to watch for them first tonight? I say we can probably rotate every four hours and that should be enough for everyone to sleep."

"What's a stray?"

"Oh my god," Dream groans. "They're skeleton creatures that wear rags and shoot arrows." 

George stares at him as if he's joking.

"Your Highness, I'm being serious. They're deadly."

George thinks about it for a moment before he stands and drags his mom's sword from where it's sitting in the snow outside Dream's tent back to his rock.

"Don't worry, they only attack at night," Sapnap waves a hand absentmindedly.

"Sir Sapnap it is almost night." 

"I know." He smiles toothily at George.

The sun sinks lower until it's almost gone completely.

The campfire pops and George jumps, clutching his sword closer to his chest.

"Dude rela-ax," Sapnap claps his large hand on George's shoulder. "Nothings going to get us for another few hours, the sun hasn't even finished setting."

"Yeah... yeah, I know that." George shrugs Sapnap's hand off himself. A scraping noise of metal on metal assaults his ears and he turns to see Dream running his dagger against a large rock. "What on Earth are you doing?"

The dagger is a sea green and from where George sits he can see it's carved with intricate little diamond patterns. Dream drops the stone and goes to join Sapnap and George around the fire.

"I don't know, I just like when my dagger's sharp." Dream shrugs and stretches out his shoulders.

"Whoa, Sir Dream... that knife is so cool..." Sapnap reaches for the dagger and Dream pulls it away. "Where'd you get it?"

Dream makes a thinking noise before cocking his head to the side and George knows he's smirking before he even speaks. "I once defeated an entire underwater temple by myself."

Sapnap makes an "ooh" noise as his eyes light up in admiration. George rolls his eyes. 

"I killed the Elder Guardian and probably about... oh I don't know, I'd say like a hundred guardians."

George rolls his eyes harder.

"Okay, I'm being humble, it was more like two hundred."

Sapnap practically jumps from his seat and George groans.

"But when you kill a guardian, they have these really rough scales on their backs. I was able to salvage some and make this." Dream holds the dagger up, it's beauty sparkling in the campfire light.

"So you kill two hundred guardians and all you could make was one tiny dagger?" George smiles his cocky smirk.

Dream turns slowly to look at George, the knight helmet practically creaking. "Have you ever killed a guardian, George?" 

A shiver runs down George's spine and he moves closer to Sapnap, who, unprovoked, wraps an arm around George. 

"Wait so if you beat the temple, you have a cool princey power then, huh?" Sapnap squeezes George's chest and he hopes he never has to move.

"Uh... yeah- yeah I do." Dream sheaths his dagger and looks down awkwardly.

"So what can you do?" 

Dream makes an almost gurgling noise, "I can't really show you guys in my armor, but I can turn kind of invisible."

Sapnap and George lean closer towards Dream.

"Yeah..."

"That does sound cool..." George eyes Dream's armor up and down.

"Back at my home, there were these like bad dudes who set up an outpost like less than a mile away from us." Sapnap takes a moment to take a deep breath and George reaches a hand to hold the forearm on his chest. "But these dudes, I don't know what was wrong with them but they would come over and light shit on fire and steal from our farms and... and hurt my people. So like one day I just said whatever and I..." he takes another moment to breathe.

Dream and George are silent. George is holding tightly onto Sapnap's arm and Dream is looking at them, his head cocked sideways.

"I went up to the dude in charge, he was two feet taller than me and carried this giant flag with their faces on it. I... I hurt him and burned their flag." George turns his head to meet Sapnap's eyes. It's as if he's telling him everything will be alright. "Obviously they didn't like that so they went like twenty times as hard for my village but none of the people there know how to fight, they're all farmers mostly. So I had to... hurt... all of the bad guys attacking us. I think it took an entire day, but eventually I won."

"Holy shit," George feels breathless.

"So... you beat an entire raid by yourself?" Dream sounds to be in awe.

Sapnap nods.

"You must have magic too then."

"Mhm, I have this cool thing." Sapnap holds his hand up, in Dream's direction and a gust of warm air blows. "And I can like..." he holds a finger up and a small flame pops off. "It's how I lit the campfire."

"Your Highness George," Dream says, "you should probably go to bed now so we can get up as the sun rises."

George doesn't want to leave Sapnap's arms, but he also doesn't want to meet a stray… Sapnap removes his arm from George's chest.

"Okay…" George stands and drags his sword toward his tent, stopping just before and waiting for Dream to come unclip his cape and crown.

Dream's fingers linger on George's face a moment too long and George isn't certain what's happening until Dream breaks away, heading off into his own tent, "Sap you got first watch."

"Uh- okay…"

"Goodnight Sir Sapnap," George says before entering his own tent.

George is awoken later, to the sound of Sapnap grunting loudly. He's too afraid to look and see what's happening but there's the sound of something whizzing past his tent and then Sapnap grunts louder than before, he clutches his sleeping bag closer to himself.

He tries to ignore the noises for the rest of the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> discord server is live, come say hi- https://discord.gg/kPYdCqq


	3. hard 2 breathe

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to another installment of our incredibly inconsistent posting time! I am _extremely_ happy with my part of this chapter. Do with that what you will.
> 
> -Voiid

George hadn't expected sleeping on the ground to be comfortable. He'd never assume anything can surpass the comfort of his bed at home.

But he seems to have severely _underestimated_ how uncomfortable it would be.

It is at least warm, the sleeping bag he's wrapped in. But his shoulders are stiff, his back feels like he's been punched down a flight of stairs, he's laying on his arm and it's fallen asleep.

And the sun isn't even up.

George sits up slowly, eyes adjusting to the grey pre-morning light peeking through the entrance to his tent.

He was awoken by the sound of metal clanking, which can never be good. Crawling out of his sleeping bag, he pulls on the blue vest he had on the day before and peeks out of the tent.

Sir Sapnap is sitting on the same rock as the night before. He doesn't even look like he's moved. Dream has his hand on Sapnap's bicep but he's standing in George's line of sight so he doesn't see Sapnap's expression.

There is a slight flurry of snow descending upon them and George wants his cape as soon as possible. His feet are already cold, so he jams his boots on and scurries over to the other two, hugging his arms around himself.

Sapnap, he realizes as he gets closer, has his face screwed up in discomfort and Dream is wrapping his arm in gauze. George's eyes widen.

"Did—” he stops, eyes flicking between Dream's helmet and Sapnap's arm. "Sir Sapnap, did you get _hurt?"_ Obviously he did.

"It's just a graze," Sapnap assures him at the same time Dreams grits out "yes, but the thing didn't last long after hurting him."

He sounds like he's going to find the stray who shot him and _kill it again._

Sapnap stands up, flexing his arm a few times and patting Dream on the back.

"It's fine, it's fine, I've had worse."

George nods slowly, but he can't stop glancing at the bandage, even as Sapnap hands him breakfast and goes about helping break camp.

He's smiling and chatting with Dream, though the latter isn't half as talkative, and for a moment George forgets what they're out here for.

"We're crossing the river today," Dream says unprompted. He walks over to George, Bad's sword in one hand and his cape folded over the other.

Dream slips the sword over his back, adjusting it for a moment. While he does, Sapnap taps his shoulder once. George must still be antsy from _something,_ maybe the noises last night, but he jumps, turning sharply.

Sapnap is holding his crown, a lopsided grin on his face. "Sorry, your Grace," he says, not sounding it, and places George's crown atop his head. He fiddles with it for a lot longer than Dream ever has, his gorgeous mismatched eyes trained just above George's. George doesn’t even reply with his usual ‘not a duke.’

"It doesn't have to be perfect," Dream mutters, his voice a lot closer than Grorge expects. A pair of hands appear in his vision, draping the cape over his shoulders and clasping it in front. It's almost like he's hugging George, how close he is.

Suddenly he doesn't need the cape to feel warm.

Sapnap steps away first, smiling with pride now as he gives George a once-over.

"It's not crooked now," he says brightly, hands on his hips. George doesn't know what to say, aside from "it's never been crooked." Dream always makes sure.

* * *

The river is frozen solid.

The sky is still grey, snow flitting down and resting on the smooth surface. There are long, dark lines down the river, George doesn't know if they're cracks or something else.

Sapnap is panting when they get to the bank. Maybe it's everything he's carrying, but he pulls off his panda skin with a sigh, crouches by the bank of the river and shakes out his hair.

Dream unsheaths his sword and pokes at the ice a bit. It doesn't crack, just shaves off a little where the point cuts it.

George gazes out over the grey-on-grey. In a way, he's thankful that nothing is colored now. Makes it easier for him. The ice makes his stomach turn.

What if it cracks while they're out there? What if he falls through? What if—

"Okay," Dream says with a clap of his hands. Sapnap stands up, his panda skin once again over his head and shoulders. George straightens. He wishes he had something else to hold onto aside from the hem of his cape.

"Alright, I'm assuming George hasn't done this before," Dream turns to him, helmet grin facing him full-on, "so I'll explain." He points out over the river.

"First, Sapnap gives George the food pack. Then I'll be carrying the most. We'll cross single-file. Me first, Sapnap follows. George, you go last."

George opens his mouth to question, his heart hammering in his throat.

"Since I'll be the heaviest, it's a better gauge of the ice strength. If I can make it past and Sapnap can too, then you'll be fine since you're the lightest. Got it?"

George nods quickly.

"We take slow steps, try to be in sync. If you hear _anything,_ and I mean it… _anything_ that sounds like cracking, you go back the way you came. You'll know it when you hear it."

George supposes this is supposed to be good information, things that will help them, but it's just making his heart rate spike along with his nervousness.

"If you fall through—" Dream holds up a hand. "I don't expect that, this river is usually pretty solid, but if you do? Get above the surface, turn yourself towards the way you came and crawl back up, on your stomach. You want to try and spread out your weight as much as possible. Kick with your legs, pull up with your arms."

George thinks he might be sick.

"Now that that's out of the way, let's go!" Dream sounds far too optimistic considering what he just said.

"Just stay calm."

Calm. Sure. George sucks in a breath. The cold air makes his lungs ache. Sapnap comes to stand in front of him, concern written on his face. He takes off the food pack, holding it between them, but doesn't give it to George yet.

"It's going to be okay," he says with confidence. "The river's not that wide, we'll be across before you know it."

George knows that's probably true, but it doesn't stop him from being afraid. He takes the food pack with shaking hands, trying to give Sapnap the shadow of a reassuring smile, wraps his cape closer around him and joins Dream at the riverbank.

He glances up at George, pausing for a second. His hands reach down and he unbuckles his dagger sheath from his thigh, holding it up to George.

“Hold onto this for me,” he says blandly. George stares at it. Dream’s hand is shaking a little but it _must_ be from the cold. He doesn’t really know why Dream thinks George is the best one to give his precious dagger to, but he takes it anyway and fiddles with the leather buckle straps until it’s secured to his own leg.

"Ready?" Dream asks, but George doesn't answer. He has a feeling Dream isn't asking for one.

He steps out onto the ice carefully, leading with his sword. A tap here, a few gentle stabs there and he takes another. The air is still, the world cold and quiet. George hears nothing but the scrape of metal on ice and his own heart beating.

Dream takes two more steps and turns, waving Sapnap onto the ice. He's just as careful, if not more. George doesn’t know if he’s more afraid of being alone on the bank or in danger on the ice. Sapnap holds his hand out to George, ready to help him down from the bank. His hand is warm, grip solid and grounding. George’s feet make contact with the ice. He doesn’t want to let go of Sapnap’s hand but it slips out of his anyway and then he’s on his own.

His gaze is focused on Dream, moving with slow steps ahead of him. He matches pace exactly, step after step. Dream’s sword taps against the ice. He takes another one. Tap tap step.

Sapnap glances behind him at George a few times, smiling cheerfully like they’ll be fine. George’s apprehension is lowering a little, he supposes. They’re almost halfway across now and nothing has happened. Maybe they really _will_ be fine.

_It’s like an explosion._

Dream was serious when he said they’d know it when they heard it. The ice shakes when it cracks, appearing in an instant. It splits the ice ahead of him, long and wide and so _dangerous._ The crack disrupts the thin silence around them, the sharp sound echoing across to either bank. Sapnap freezes. George can’t see Dream anymore, farther ahead. Fear creeps into his throat.

George turns on his heel abruptly, mind racing with _go back the way you came_ until he hears another crack and a splash. The sound of something, _someone,_ falling in water.

Sapnap gasps and George has to turn around again. He drops his bow and quiver in one motion, yanking the axe off his back as he takes three steps forward and lands on his knees, letting the frictionless ice carry him farther. George stares. There’s a hole in the ice, swift-moving water visible underneath. Dream is nowhere to be seen.

Sapnap stays away from the edge of the hole, head whipping back and forth. It’s like he’s searching. A little farther downstream, he sees a distorted blob of green and gold, under the ice. He was pulled under by the current. Sapnap’s stomach drops. But it’s no time to pause and wait, there’s no time for anything else except— He skids over to Dream, raising his axe with both arms. He brings it down on the solid ice, chips flying off in every direction. Again. It’s too thick, he won’t make it in time. Again. How long until hypothermia sets in? _Again. Again._ His hands ache. Again. How long can Dream hold his breath? He draws himself up, almost to standing. Again. The axe comes down, embedding inches into the ice. It’s not enough. _Not enough._

He takes a breath, feeling his chest fill with warmth. His heartbeat thumps against his ribcage. Warm. Warmer. _Hot._

George is rooted to the spot, hands starting to numb where he’s squeezing the fabric of his cape. He can’t move. _He can’t move._ Everything is laid out in front of him like he’s watching from in the sky, from behind a glass wall like the atrium in the castle. He’s not really _here,_ watching what might be someone’s death. He doesn’t know if he’s breathing too much or not at all.

Sapnap breathes out and this time flames lick across his lips. He switches the axe to one hand. Slams the other against the surface of the ice. It turns slick under him, his magic heating it. The axe comes down. The ice is thinner now, but still not enough. It glows orange with the heat of his hand. He claws at the ice. Hammers the axe three times.

Flames jump off from his fingers, the ice melts away. His hands slips through into the water. Sapnap grabs at the edge of the hole, prying chunks of ice away. He drops his axe, it slides across the ice as he digs at the hole, movements nearing frantic.

Dream is still moving when he pulls him out of the water. Hands under his arms, Sapnap lays him out, propping his chest up against his own. Dream pulls at his cape clumsily, snapping the chain on it and shoving it away. It’s soaking wet. His breaths sound heavy under his helmet and Sapnap is itching to just pull it off him.

“Sir Dream?” He whispers, breathless. Hugging Dream closer, he focuses his magic on warming and drying him off.

Dream is shivering, arms jerking as he tries to lift them to his face. Sapnap watches as he tries to push up the faceplate on his helmet with his hands but he’s too cold to do so. After a second he makes a frustrated noise, using the palms of his hands instead.

With his mouth free now, he gasps in air. Sapnap loosens his hold a little, increases the warmth. He can feel Dream’s clothes drying. He starts to shiver less.

“I—” Dream gasps in another breath. “I’m so fucking stupid,” he mutters. He grabs onto Sapnap's forearms, closing them tighter around himself.

Sapnap bends his head down and rests it against Dream’s helmet. “Shh, it’s okay. You’re not in charge of the ice. Not your fault,” he says. "Don't worry. I'm not letting you go."

He rests there for a moment before looking back up and searching the ice for George. He spots him standing a ways away and waves him over.

“George, it’s safe, come over here,” he calls. He’ll feel a lot better if George is nearby. The prince seems to shake himself before slowly inching across the ice to where his knight is still being held by Sapnap. Dream is a lot warmer now and he’s almost dry. He has Sapnap pull off his gloves so he can dry them quickly.

“Hey, what’s wrong? Are you okay?” Dream demands as soon as George kneels on the ice next to them. He sits up, scooting forward and putting his hands on George’s shoulders, right at the base of his neck.

George isn’t even aware that there are tears streaming down his face until Dream wipes one away with his thumb. His hand is freezing.

“Hey, don’t cry. It’s okay. I’m okay.”

George’s shoulders tense. He takes in a breath and squeezes his eyes shut.

“Get me off this river,” he whispers. He grabs onto Dream’s wrists and holds them there for a second. “Get us _off,”_ he says again, harder this time.

Sapnap has to go back to get his bow and quiver. Dream has wrapped his hand around George’s wrist and he won’t let go, their hands between them as they kneel on the ice, waiting. Sapnap finds his way back safely, grabs his axe from where it slid away and secures them all on his back.

Dream is infinitely more careful the rest of the way across the river. They are infinitely more quiet. They have no other incidents aside from Dream’s legs almost giving out a few times. Sapnap catches him without fail, leaning in to say something to him that George can’t make out. He wishes Dream weren't too proud to ask Sapnap to carry him.

George doesn’t think too much about crying openly in front of two people that he arguably isn’t that close with. Rather, all that’s on his mind is Dream’s hand on his cheek and his soft “it’s okay. I’m okay.” But he isn’t okay. None of them are. Sapnap’s arm bandage is pink, almost red now. His wound must’ve reopened but he’s not talking about it. Dream almost drowned and he still hasn't recovered. He’s not talking about it. George is so shaken, terrified to the bone. He doesn’t honestly know if he’s going to make it to the End, to the dragon. _He’s not talking about it._

Sapnap helps Dream up the riverbank, despite George being able to hear him say “I can do it myself, I’m fine,” and he waits for George to catch up.

“Your…” Sapnap sighs. “Your _Highness.”_ George starts paying attention, lifting his eyes up from the edge of the river where the ice sticks to stray clumps of dirt and frail grass.

“Are you alright?” he asks. George should say no. But on the other hand _he wasn’t the one drowning._

“You two should worry more about yourselves,” George grumbles, turning up his chin and brushing past Sapnap, trying to climb the riverbank on his own.

Dream is sitting on the frosty snow-sticky grass above and his helmet is tilted up, looking straight over the river back the way they came. His hands swish back and forth through the brittle blades of grass. Snow sticks to his newly dried gloves. George slips on the dirt trying to climb it and Sapnap appears at his shoulder, arms crossed and a faint smile on his lips.

“Need a hand?” he asks. George looks over at him. He nods, and Sapnap laces his fingers together into a makeshift step for George to use. He clambers up to the ground next to Dream and Sapnap follows, huffing loudly as he sprawls out on the grass for a moment.

"Please tell me we don't have to come back this way," Sapnap groans.

"No," Dream answers. He sounds far away. He takes a deep breath in. George watches his chest rise and fall with the exhale. "That was… a lot."

_'A lot' is an understatement,_ George thinks. They all rise, Sapnap automatically wrapping an arm around Dream's shoulders. He doesn't protest, rather leans into the contact. George can feel heat radiating off them both from Sapnap's magic.

George's heart hasn't slowed down since that first explosive crack in the ice. He looks down, noticing his hands worrying at the velvet fabric of his cape again. He's going to wear a hole in it at this rate.

Sapnap and Dream call to him, he realizes he hasn't moved, and he jogs to catch up. Sapnap sways with each step, talking about something mundane and calm— George thinks it might be wheat farming— and the soft fur edge of his panda skin sways with him.

George reaches out, on instinct, and catches the edge between his fingers. It's warm too, not just soft. It tugs a bit, Sapnap turning his head to look behind him. George averts his eyes.

Sapnap doesn't say a word, but he does inch closer and George's hand grips the fur more tightly.

They walk like that for a while, Sapnap muttering quietly to Dream, who seems to regain strength with every step, and George, hand fisted in the black fur on Sapnap's panda skin.

The hair on the back of George's neck sticks straight up, and then Dream says, "If we're going to make it to the portal in time we need to keep on pace."

Sapnap steps away from George, only grabbing the food bag back from him. "On we go!" He marches off in the snow.

"You- Hold on," Dream reaches an arm towards Sapnap, only narrowly missing him as he charges on, "let me see your shoulder."

George attempts to stand on his toes to peer around them, but only manages to sink further in the snow.

Sapnap shrugs and keeps going. Dream spends the next hour trudging after Sapnap, trying to get him to stop long enough to change the bandage at least.

During the hour, the snowy ground turns to pine leaves and soft dirt, giant trees reaching miles into the sky. Rocks hidden in the ground make the next few hours of travel very rough, but Sapnap always has a joke to cheer the other two up with.

The giant trees begin to grow shorter, but thicker and darker. Dream holds an arm out suddenly, almost clothes lining George. 

_"SHH!"_ Dream's helmet wildly swings from side to side, even Sapnap slowing down to listen, "We're getting very close to the portal now… We have to be on our guard. Zombies have been seen around here in broad daylight and even with slow traffic into the Nether, Piglins have been in these areas." Dream points to the ground, and sure enough, a faint footprint can be seen in the soft dirt.

"I don't think anyone's been here in ages-" Sapnap moves next to Dream, "let me see the map, here- See we're in the old Potato War fields." Sapnap leans down and looks intently at the ground before sticking his hand into the dirt and pulling out a bushy green plant, with giant clumps of dirt in the roots.

"What on _Earth_ was that for?" George recoils.

"It's a potato plant."

Dream sighs and continues on.

They continue walking for what feels like forever. George's hips feel as if they've been lit on fire, his legs numb. Sapnap pants heavily but doesn't slow down.

Dream stops them again, this time to point at something off through the trees, rather than a possible noise. "Do you see that?"

George squints his eyes and sure enough a purple light peeks through the trees.

"That's the portal," Dream says. "We should make camp here, we're close enough to wake up early and go inside, but far enough we shouldn't have to worry about running into anyone."

George takes that as his cue to find a nice rock to sit on. This one covered in moss, though only on one side.

Just as the night before, Dream sets up the tents and Sapnap lights the fire.

The sun sets and the three eat their dinner, making easy conversation.

At some point, Sapnap stands and goes to lean against one of the dark oak trees, holding his axe tightly. 

The night sky is dark and beautiful. Little pops of color twinkle and George imagines he could trace them forever. 

He should probably go to bed soon.

He stands, but waivers for a moment when his eyes pass Sapnap's face.

His eyes are wide, unblinking and he's staring out into the forest. The campfire flickers, casting long shadows and making Sapnap seem almost sinister looking.

George holds a hand out for a moment, before pulling it back to himself. Dream's sitting by the campfire, unmoving in his armor and probably asleep. George sits down, right in front of Sapnap. His blank stare breaks and his eyes dart to meet George's.

"Sir Sapnap…" George doesn't know what to say, so he goes with what he knows best. "I don't feel comfortable or safe going to sleep if the knight keeping watch is not entirely here."

Sapnap laughs quietly, "Not a knight, remember, your Grace?"

"Not a duke."

They sit in comfortable silence for a moment. And then Sapnap drops his axe and puts his hand on George's knee. 

"I'm… George I really doubt you care about whatever's going on in my head."

Dream's armor clanks as he sits up. "He does care."

George breaks his eye contact with Sapnap and looks over at Dream, he's sitting on the ground, propped up on his elbows so he can stare into the fire.

"Yeah, I do care. If something's bothering you, I'd hope that you could… erm… share your worries with the group." George gives Sapnap an awkward smile.

Sapnap makes a thinking noise, as if trying to decide if he wants to say anything. "It's… nothing."

Dream pushes himself up from the ground with a sigh, "No, not nothing." He sits down next to George and Sapnap, the three in a sort of triangle. "Obviously something is bothering you. You're not- We're here for you." Dream puts one of his hands over Sapnap's hand resting on George's knee.

The moment that passes is as if the entire world has stopped. Nothing else matters. Not the dragon. Not the monsters lurking in the dark. 

Not even George's own royal quest.

Just these three men together, under the stars and sharing whatever this moment is.

"I'm just thinking about stuff," Sapnap says suddenly. "I just…"

"You're homesick," Dream finishes for him, his voice with a certain dark air. 

"Yeah, I mean kind of. I've really never left my home before. Like I've been to Invadedland before, sometimes we trade with L'manburg, but I've never slept anywhere further than the island I'm from."

George rests a hand on top of the hands on his knee. "I've never set foot outside the castle before."

"Never?" Sapnap's eyes widen even more.

"Never. The castle's- Well it's a castle, there was never a reason to leave before. Just me moving room to room usually. I don't know- I never really thought about it before." George looks up at the sky for a moment and Sapnap's hand squeezes his knee.

"I just assumed you used to go out more as a kid," Dreams says quietly.

"No…"

Sapnap tilts his head from side to side, "I'm just worried."

"About what?" George asks dumbly. As if he isn't speaking to the sole protector of a village currently being attacked by a dragon.

"My home. I left my people to come get us help, but it means that I have no idea what's going on back home. For all I know everything's burnt down."

A silence passes over them again.

"Well then I guess we'll just have to kill the dragon as fast as possible," George smiles.

"Can I just say Invadedland is the dumbest, most on the nose name you guys could have chosen," Sapnap's smiling too, but it's hard to tell how genuine it is.

"What?" George laughs.

"You guys invaded some already existing villages and then claimed them as your own land, _and then you didn't even have the decency to make up a name."_ Sapnap barks out a laugh and as offended as George is, he laughs too.

"I'm sure I don't know what you mean-"

"Oh come on,.your Highness," Dream laughs, "your mom and dad just claimed over other people's land, it's pretty common knowledge."

"Mhm, even people from my home know about it."

George makes a face, "No but they- What do you mean 'claimed over'?"

"Haven't you ever read a history book?" Sapnap laughs.

"I- We- Yes, _of_ _course_ I have…"

"Oh do not trust him," Dream laughs, doubling over until his helmet is practically in Sapnap's lap, "he's never once paid attention to anything."

"Hey! That's not fair… you haven't either!" 

Their laughs are cut short by a distant groaning noise. 

Sapnap stands and starts hitting one of the trees with his axe. 

"Sir Sapnap-" George reaches a hand to stop him, but Dream stands and grips Sapnap's arm with both of his hands, "What the hell do you think you're doing?!"

"We-" Sapnap swings his axe again, as if Dream's grip is nothing to him, "are going- to need- more tools."

_"You're going to attract every monster in a twenty mile radius,"_ Dream whispers harshly.

"Yeah- but you will have- an axe to protect us with-" Each swing of the axe, George watches the way Sapnap arcs his arms around and brings them swinging. Their current place of residence much warmer than the snow, Sapnap wears significantly less layers and George swears he can almost see the way his back moves under the shirt and-

The smell of something rotting invades George's nose. 

A twig snaps just beside George and before he can process what's happening, a stiff, rotten and bloody hand clamps around his bicep. He screams and leaps up, Dream slashing the arm right off the body of the attacker before he's even fully turned his head.

"Sapnap cut that out!" Dream places a hand on George's chest, pushing him behind himself and lunging forward, sinking the sword into the zombie's chest.

George feels numb.

The tree makes a horrific cracking noise as it tips over, the leaves rustling louder than George thought possible. Sapnap cheers.

Sapnap begins hacking off strips and chunks of the tree. Dream keeps his hand on George's chest.

"Your Highness, how many times have you almost died today?" Dream jokes.

"Not nearly as many as you-"

Dream whips around, slashing the blade with both hands now, cutting a zombie George hadn't seen in two. "You were saying?" Dream wears the helmet, but George knows he has a dumb smile.

"I think that only adds to your tally though."

"Oh don't you start-" 

Sapnap grunts loudly, clutching his shoulder. George looks around first, gauging for threat, but Dream just pulls Sapnap away from his woodworking to inspect the wound. His bandages are completely soaked through, and possibly torn.

"You idiot, this is going to get infected at this rate," Dream pushes Sapnap down to sit on the tree stump, calling George over with a motion of his hand. "Your Highness, have you ever dressed a wound?"

"No-"

"Great. You're about to learn." Dream makes quick work of cutting the dirty bandages off, cleaning the wound, and rewrapping them. "Don't you dare pick that axe back up tonight," Dream points a finger at Sapnap, who only picks his axe back up with the other arm, tossing it past Dream's shoulder.

The axe sinks into the skull of a zombie less than ten feet away.

"I'll finish in the morning then, you can have first watch tonight." Sapnap smiles and gives George a bow before disappearing into his tent.

"Uh… thank you," George says to Dream before retiring into his own.

He stays up for a while, listening to Dream cut down zombies as anxiety claws at his mind.


	4. hot as ice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry

It's wet in the roofed forest. 

Rain dripping from the treetops onto his tent wakes George up. He rubs the sleep from his eyes, finding much to his dismay, his vest laying in the corner had been soaked through by the rain. 

George sticks his head out of his tent, keeping his bare chest hidden behind the tent door. “Uh-” his words fizzle in his mouth and die when he sees Sapnap and Dream sitting on the tree stump and kneeling on the ground respectively. He can’t hear what they say, but Sapnap hands Dream’s cape to him, and then pats the cheek of his helmet.

Sapnap’s eyes bright up when he sees George, “Your Grace, I have something for you!”

“Is it a new shirt, because I am in desperate need for one of those.”

Dream stands and turns to look over at George, “You have bed head, Geor- Prince George.”

George feels his face heat up, “I- _I need a new shirt._ The rain ruined my blue vest so I need something else to wear.”

“Oh,” Sapnap laughs, heading into his own tent, “you can borrow one of mine. My moms were worried about my trip so I ended up overpacking.” He returns to hand George a wrinkled yellow thing.

George stares at it for a moment, trying to not let his disgust show. “... Thank… you.”

“No problem, I also have a few other things I made while keeping watch this morning.”

George ducks into his tent to put on his clothes, the yellow shirt a few sizes too big, sleeves rolling down his arms and the bottom of it halfway to his knees. He settles for tucking it into his trousers and rolling the sleeves up. 

Dream gives George a onceover, readjusting the crown and then nodding. Sapnap leans behind the fallen tree to grab a few items.

Sapnap hands an axe to Dream, who performs a few experimental moves which George isn't convinced aren't just to show off. It’s a little more than a third of the size of Sapnap’s own, a cloth-wrapped handle with a leather loop at the end.

George marvels at the work for a moment, "Is that diamond?" He asks incredulously. Sapnap wrinkles his nose.

"No, of course not, how—” he pauses. "Ohhh. No, your Grace, it's iron," he amends. George rolls his eyes.

Sapnap turns back to the tree and brings George… a shield. It's big, tall enough to cover him nearly neck to knee. He reaches out tentatively, to his surprise, the shield isn't actually that heavy.

"That's for you. Try not to get burned," he says with a wink. George thinks the wink is unnecessary, but he’s not going to address it. 

George playfully shoves Sapnap’s chest, but he doesn’t budge and George only makes himself off-balance, tilting backwards. He starts to fall.

Sapnap reaches out on instinct, but he’s caught by two _different_ strong arms around his biceps. Dream sets him back on his feet, hand lingering on his arm for a moment. “I made breakfast.”

Dream and Sapnap walk idly around the campsite while they eat, George preferring to sit on the tree stump and eat like he was raised. He can barely hear them mention what items they’re planning on leaving behind so they don’t burn in the Nether.

* * *

George had sat on the stump, watching the other two pace around camp, putting items away into their tents and packing a single bag of essential items for their trip to the Nether. It’s only supposed to take part of the day, so there’s really no point in packing up camp. Dream assumes that they’re going to be nursing a few of Sapnap’s wounds so they might as well be prepared to rest for the second half of that day.

Dream leads the way to the portal, cutting through the trees with his sword. George can see the purple glow before he sees the portal. 

It feels like a chunk of air is warping, moving methodically, as it emits the purple light and George swears it’s making a noise. The frame of the portal reaches some odd twenty feet in the sky, giant stone pillars, chains swinging freely from it. The top of the portal is lined with gold and the inside a smooth, shimmering black stone.

“Sapnap you go in first, George you follow, and I go last.” Dream steps away from the portal, gesturing for Sapnap to enter. Sapnap shrugs, giving a look over his shoulder at George and then steps into the purple light.

He’s gone in an instant. 

“Your turn, your Highness.” Dream gestures for George, and he takes a shaky breath before following Sapnap.

The portal feels cool for a moment before George is almost overwhelmed by the _heat_. He wishes for a moment that he had thought to leave his cape behind. Or even his crown. Dream had mentioned it, but he had almost bitten off Dream’s fingers at the thought of leaving either behind to be stolen by whoever might pass through the forest.

George squints, the Nether dark and bright all at the same time. A hand grips onto him and pulls him from the portal, “ _Sapnap-”_ George trips into Sapnap’s chest, the other just letting out a laugh.

The Nether feels empty and full all at the same time. The sky seems to be endless, and yet George can see red islands of fire floating and stacking up towards the empty red void. Under them, George can see between the cracks of the island they currently stand on is pools of lava. 

Lava streams fall from the sky, seeming to start from nowhere and end somewhere underneath George.

A giant red brick fortress looms over the two of them.

“ _Jesus-_ ” Dream gasps as he jumps from the portal.

Sapnap grabs Dream with his other hand, pulling him into his chest as well. “Sir Dream, you okay?”

“Yeah, I just always seem to forget how fucking hot it is here.” He takes a moment to look around, “ _That_ must be the Antarctic Empire.”

“Yup…”

Dream takes a step away to look at Sapnap and George, “Wait…”

Sapnap cocks his head to the side, taking a step back himself.

“You two forgot your gold armor,” Dream throws his head back and groans.

“Ohhh…” Sapnap trails at the same time George asks, “What gold armor?”

“It-” Dream groans again, throwing his head into his hands.

“The piglins that live here wear gold and really hate outsiders, so basically you need to wear gold so they don’t kill you on sight,” Sapnap answers.

“Sapnap if you knew that, why didn’t you make gold armor last night?” Dream drags it out slowly.

“I forgot.”

“Of course.”

“Well,” Sapnap places his hands on his hips, sizing up the fortress, “we can just steal some gold from here!”

George almost objects but remembers that they’re currently choosing between theft and death.

Dream is silent for a moment before slowly approaching the fortress opening. “That… should work actually. Just-” he turns to point at the two of them, but mostly Sapnap, “be _quiet_ and do not provoke anyone. Just stay in the shadows and if you see someone, _run_.”

Sapnap and George nod.

“Follow me then,” Dream motions for them to follow and he creeps into the fortress.

If the heat alone wasn’t enough to make George sweat, the feeling of dread from tiptoeing through the fortress would. He trails his fingers on the rough brick walls to keep himself grounded, but every footstep that echoes puts him out of his mind.

They pass a fenced window and Dream ducks, slowly creeping past it and motioning for the other two to do the same. They pass a four way cross section and Dream checks the corners, sprinting low and keeping watch for the other two to follow.

It feels as if they’ve walked forever and made no ground. 

At one point they spot a giant skeletal creature, black and smoking and they sprint in the other direction.

Finally they stumble upon a chest, Dream points for Sapnap to keep watch as Dream loots it, producing a pair of gold boots and a few random chunks of gold. He makes George swap his nice leather boots for the gold rimmed boots that seem to shimmer with a purple reflection, possibly an enchantment. Dream shoves the pieces of gold into the pack Sapnap carries.

They continue on their way, not finding any more chests.

“This would go a lot faster if we split up,” Sapnap groans.

“Sir Sapnap you sound like an ass,” George breathes heavily, unaware of how out of breath he’d been. His feet feel as if they’ve blistered.

“We’re covering like no ground looking for blazes like this. I can go look for a spawner by myself and then we can meet back up if either of us find some-”

“ _No._ ” Dream’s harsh whisper cuts Sapnap off. “There is no way I’m agreeing to that. We stick together.”

Sapnap chuckles softly, “Dream~” he sings, “it sounds like somebody is growing attached to the ‘Nobody’.” He puts air quotes around the “nobody” part.

“I- I can’t believe you remember I said that,” Dream mumbles, ducking under another window.

“It was two days ago,” George rolls his eyes as he ducks under the window.

“Besides, I’d never grow attached to either of you,” Dream says simply as Sapnap ducks under the window. For some reason George feels hurt by that.

“Good, then you should agree that it would go fast if we take two different directions at the next junction,” Sapnap points towards the next cross section ahead of them.

Dream stands still for a moment. “Only if you go down the hallway directly next to us and we can easily get to you.”

Sapnap smiles enthusiastically.

They part and Dream is silent for the next twenty feet before Sapnap shouts, “Hey guys! I found something!” and then he’s sprinting off back down the hallway, dragging George by his wrist.

Sapnap is standing in a large room, almost completely empty save for a giant golden throne.

“What is this?” George takes a step towards the throne, surprised when a large red door behind it opens slowly.

A large black shadow looms in the doorway.

“Uh… Sapnap what did you-” Dream is cut off by a low, slow chuckling noise coming from the shadow.

“I dunno,” Sapnap shrugs, “I thought it might have been a blaze spawner.”

Light from outside the fortress flickers, lighting the silhouette’s face for a moment, a pigman with one pink eye and one blue eye, a golden crown sitting atop his head.

The man takes a step forward into the room, light reflecting off his serrated diamond sword, long and sharpened to a razor-edge. Sapnap pulls George behind himself.

_"You."_ The man raises the point of his sword at George. He stares up at the sword like a bird caught in a net. The firelight reflects off the diamond surface, orange on blue, and the man bares his teeth. His snarl stretches around the tusks poking out from his mouth.

**_“I want your head.”_ **

George’s blood runs cold at the words. He can’t move. Sapnap grabs onto his hand and gets ready to run.

Dream moves in front of them both, one hand outstretched, the other gripping his axe. He doesn’t speak, just puts himself between George and the end of the weapon. He lowers his sword and for a second George thinks he might actually stand down until— a flash of blue and he’s swinging his sword straight for George’s throat.

Dream flicks his hand out and deflects it with the axe, the resounding noise seeming to fill the entire room. The pig king glares at him. He rests his sword flat on his shoulder, carrying it with ease. Dream isn’t fooled by his casual air.

“Don’t touch him.” Dream draws his sword, the blade ringing as it's freed from the sheath. Sapnap's hand closes tighter around George's. “Don’t touch him or I _will_ kill you.” Dream sounds dead serious. George imagines bright blood running between the bricks under his feet.

“You can’t kill me,” The king says. He stares down his nose at Dream. “I can’t die.” He sounds sure of himself, like entire armies have tried to cut him down and none succeeded. 

"We’ll see about that. You, me, right now… _Emperor Technoblade."_ Dream brandishes his sword and axe, the lavafalls behind Technoblade’s throne make them glow orange and red with reflected light.

Technoblade scoffs, shaking his head. "You're awfully confident for a man who knows my name." He moves, his cape sweeping behind him as he descends the stairs. The crimson velvet is not unlike blood as it trails in his wake.

Technoblade is taller than Dream, broader at the shoulders, thicker at the arms. His bright eyes peer down, straight through his helmet. One a shining pink, the other cold and blue like frosted glass. His tusks are sharpened like he hunts with them, ears pointed and smooth with short hairs. He looks _monstrous_ in the dark cavern.

"Is this really where you want to die?"

Dream grips his sword tighter. He brings his axe up to shield his face.

"So be it," Technoblade snarls. He whips his cape off, tossing it onto the throne behind him.

Sapnap takes a step back, pushing Grorge behind him and shielding him more with his body. Technoblade pays them no mind, stepping toe-to-toe with Dream. He lifts his hand up to tap at the crest of Dream’s helmet.

Dream flinches back. “You want the head of a prince, but you’re barely a king yourself, you bacon bitch.”

Technoblade freezes. He growls low, face twisting into a furious glare, and sweeps his sword around in a long, wide stroke. Dream hops away lightly. He tilts his helmet slightly and George imagines he’s grinning underneath.

He bears down on Technoblade with both his sword and axe, the latter still too worked up from his earlier remark to collect himself and fight back properly. Dream takes the opportunity to lead them away from George and Sapnap and to the mouth of a large adjacent hallway. He speeds up his attacks and Technoblade’s eyes seem to come back into sharp focus. He ducks low under Dream’s sweeping attack and pivots, setting off full-tilt down a long netherbrick hallway. Dream sighs, sending a glance back towards the prince and Sapnap and sprints off after Technoblade.

George dodges Sapnap's arm and tries to run after them too, clutching his shield between his chest and the world. Sapnap catches his arm and pulls him back, flush against his chest.

"Don't get between that, George," he mumbles, gently coaxing the shield out of George's hands. "I know you want to, but… Technoblade is dangerous. Dream's doing us a favor by taking his focus off of us." George hears how steady his voice is but his heartbeat is thundering at a dangerous speed against his back.

"He'll be fine?" George asks, eyes wide and still staring off down the now empty hallway.

"He'll do his best."

George turns around and pulls Sapnap into his arms. "I hate the Nether," he whines. “Carry me, Sir Sapnap.”

“As you wish.”

Sapnap lets out a breath, hefting George into his arms and still holding the shield in the other.

“Let’s give them some space, I don’t want Technoblade thinking he can come after you or something. We’ll follow along in a few minutes. I know you don’t want to leave him.” After a second, “neither do I.”

George nods slowly. He rests his head against Sapnap's shoulder, bringing up a hand to play with the ends of his headband. He's nervous, of course, for Dream. But Sapnap is a constant and comforting presence. It's hard to worry himself to pieces when he's holding him so close and looking like nothing can go wrong with the world.

-

Dream's boots scuff against the nether brick as Technoblade pushes him backwards. His sword is holding up, but just barely. Technoblade has a power advantage, a bigger sword and more muscle making it hard to stand his ground. They’ve only just turned a corner and Technoblade seems intent on not letting him put space between them.

He has his sword and axe crossed in front of him, a barrier between the serrated diamond teeth on the sword and the glittering gold of Dream’s chestplate. He isn’t a defensive fighter. He doesn’t wait for the right moment. If he had it his way he would be relentless, but iron weapons up against the jagged edge of Technoblade's diamond?

_Wait._

Dream rolls backwards, ducks to the side, hopping up onto a windowsill in the hallway. Technoblade stumbles forwards, the resistance suddenly gone and he puts a hand out to catch himself. Dream jams his battered sword back into its sheath and draws the long, shining blade of Bad's longsword from his back.

He jumps, Technoblade turns, the longsword strikes down on Technoblade's with a resounding _clang!_ They both get knocked backwards, Dream forcing a grunt out of the other. Technoblade scrambles to his feet, eyes wide as he glances between Dream’s helmet and the sword he now holds.

“You—!” Technoblade starts. Dream heaves his axe at Technoblade, who ducks under the razor-edge as it whips past him. It embeds itself into the far wall, chipping off parts of the brick. Technolade stares behind him for a beat, chest heaving almost in time with Dream’s own breaths before he surges forward, eyes ablaze with fury.

“You killed my ally!” Technoblade yells. Dream isn’t even given a moment to react. Technoblade swings his sword in a wide arc, just grazing Dream's arm as he turns to run. He almost doesn’t notice until a drop of blood hits the nether brick and sizzles, hissing as it evaporates. He presses a hand to the wound and it stings, but not enough to be worried about.

"Never turn your back to the enemy!" Technoblade shouts after him, brandishing his sword. He swings it over his head and it hits the ceiling of the hallway, raining down brick dust.

“Wanna see something _cool?”_ He shouts after Dream, and it might be the tone of his voice but Dream doesn’t think he’s going to find it very cool. He only hopes he can survive whatever it is.

Technoblade slams his hand against the wall, sending a shockwave of ice crackling into existence down towards Dream. He hears it before he sees it and a giant icicle erupts into view. He only barely manages to duck underneath it while still running.

Dream grits his teeth beneath his helmet. He hadn’t expected Technoblade to have magic. But someone so powerful? Why wouldn’t he? Dream _needs_ his powers. If he can use them to slip away— just a single second is enough— then he can win and they can escape. Not just him. Because if he doesn't beat Technoblade then the other two are at risk.

But to have his powers work at all he has to be free of his armor. Dream takes a beat to decide. Protection for himself or safety for George and Sapnap. It's no contest.

Dream starts fumbling with the buckles on his pauldrons. It's hard trying to undo them with one hand. Between that and periodically turning to block a long slash or a hopeful stab from Technoblade, he's got his hands full. Literally. Another icicle breaks through the ground below him and he sidesteps it, pausing in his rhythm to swing Bad’s sword behind him. Wielding a longsword in one hand when it’s _clearly meant for two_ is starting to take a toll on his muscles.

Dream drops his left pauldron behind him when it comes loose. Technoblade trips on it.

He hits the ground hard, landing half on his knee and his sword scrapes against the grit in between the nether bricks. He curses under his breath, pushing his hair out of his eyes before whipping his head up to glare at Dream. It would be funny if not for the way his blue eye glows like cracked ice, dangerous.

Dream has enough time to slip one of his greaves off his leg before Technoblade flicks out his hand and ice forms at Dream’s feet. It binds his hand and one leg to the ground under a thick layer of ice. Technoblade is back on his feet and springboarding off the ground, attempting a jump attack strikingly similar to Dream's own a minute before.

Dream blocks the attack, even with one hand trapped by his leg, but it _hurts_ . He twists, leading with his still-armored shoulder and _shoves_ as hard as he can.

Technoblade stumbles back. Dream hacks at the ice with his sword. He takes another slash, this time to his leg, but breaks out of the ice. He leans forward, leading with his sword— the reach is all he needs— and the tip sinks into Technoblade’s thigh. He hisses loudly, falling to his knee. One moment. That’s it.

Greaves, both gone. Dream _runs._

He's still laden with one pauldron and a chestplate when he turns a corner in the maze-like fortress and almost collides with a skeleton. He gasps, jumping away before he glances between it and Technoblade, bearing down on him from farther down. The skeleton draws its bow and Dream shoves it towards Technoblade. It stumbles and Dream disappears around the corner. With no one else in sight, the skeleton aims the bow at the only living thing it can see.

Dream allows himself a chuckle at the sound of an arrow tip clashing with Technoblade’s sword as he shrugs off his chestplate. The sound of bones snapping a second later reminds him his life is still on the line and he drops the rest of his armor right as a black leather boot peeks around the corner of the hallway.

Dream skids around the corner, hand hooking onto the wall almost to slingshot himself down the next long corridor. Technoblade's footsteps are loud and heavy behind him as he sprints past a small pool of lava and out into the open. The fortress stretches off in every direction into the heat-warped distance, lit by the enormous lava lakes below them. Dream takes the first left he sees, long strides to put some distance between himself and Technoblade. A little farther ahead there’s an intersecting walkway that’s broken off, an empty space stretching all the way down to the lava far below.

Dream backs up a step and pushes off the low side wall. He jumps across, landing hard and rolling with the impact. He doesn’t expect Technoblade to try and follow him across the dangerous gap. The Emperor stomps the ground hard and creates a bridge across with ice. He smirks at Dream, striding towards him like he has all the time in the world.

Dream swears, pulling his helmet off his head and shaking his hair out a little. "Your Majesty, I'm sure you wouldn't really kill me?" Dream tries, lowering his sword a fraction so he can stare Technoblade down from over the sharp diamond edge.

"Where's the fun in fake killing you?" Technoblade deadpans, brow furrowed as he searches Dream’s face. Dream doesn't know how to respond to that. So he takes a deep breath, closes his eyes and disappears.

"What?" Technoblade hisses, shooting out a hand and sending a flurry of ice shards towards the empty-seeming space where Dream had stood. The ice flies off into the hot air, melting into vapor. Technoblade’s frown deepens and he bares his teeth. “Where have you gone?” he growls. He scans the area, gaze zeroing in on anything that seems out of place.

Dream ducks behind the sidewall, feeling his way along with his eyes screwed shut. He’s barely breathing, trying to keep as quiet as possible. He crawls along it, fingers running along the warm, dark brick as he goes. The pathway turns, eventually, and Dream backs himself up against the wall. His legs ache as he pushes himself to standing, eyes still closed and fully invisible. He has no idea which way the path turns, or where it leads to.

He hears Technoblade’s boots on the ground right next to him. Dream turns his head the other way. He chances it.

Technoblade still catches a glimpse of a pair of green eyes as they flicker into view for a moment.

"There you are," Technoblade whispers. He sends another barrage of ice shards towards where he'd seen Dream's eyes.

The only indication that he's even aimed at anything is the wide arc in which the shards turn to ice dust, Dream's sword slicing through the air and stopping most of his attack. A few get by him and hit his exposed legs and arms, leaving scratches and sticking to him. Technoblade grins, his eyes darkening.

Dream hisses in pain, the ice shards ripping through his clothes. His invisibility flickers and he tries to brush away the ice. Technoblade steps forward and crowds Dream’s space, resting his sword flat against Dream’s shoulder. It inches towards his throat.

“Not only will you pay for keeping me from my kill but you will pay for ending the life of my ally. No one hurts his Majesty Bad and gets away with it alive.”

Dream grips the hilt of Technoblade’s sword, shoves it away from himself, and ducks out of range in one motion. He’s sick of running, so he plants his feet solidly and matches Technoblade’s first attack with equal force. The sound of the serrated edge against his own blade is grating, Technoblade’s teeth are bared in an aggressive snarl, he refuses to let Dream gain even an inch— and it’s the way his eyes keep trained on Bad’s sword, how he thinks that Dream has murdered the very Queen who saved his life— it’s that little distraction that allows him to slide down and jam his foot against Technoblade’s ankle, knocking him off-balance again. The pressure on his sword lets up and Dream rolls away and up.

Dream only has a moment to glance around before he has to get moving again and it’s too late before he realizes the walkway he’s chosen to sprint down ends abruptly, cracked off and crumbling down to a ledge far below. Dream slows down near the edge, searching. He turns, coming face-to-face with Technoblade as he catches up.

"Nowhere to go, Dream." Technoblade shouts as he slides his diamond sword into the sheath on his back and trades it for a worn-smooth crimson crossbow. He nocks a bolt into it. Dream shifts his left foot back. It breaks off a brittle piece of nether brick and he almost loses his balance.

Dream laughs, lowering his sword fully. He's visible again, stripped of his armor by will and already injured. They stand in a stalemate for a few moments, Dream catching his breath and Technoblade waiting for his next move.

“We’ll see about that.” Dream grins. Technoblade scoffs, coming out more like a snort, and surges forward, gripping Dream by the collar of his shirt and lifting him up off the ground.

Dream gasps, trying to pry Technoblade's hand off him while still holding onto Bad's sword. His feet kick out, trying to make contact with something but he's _very quickly_ starting to feel light-headed.

"Oh, will we?"

Technoblade drops Dream off the crumbling edge of the fortress.


	5. should have known better

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> sorry 🤠

There is one beat of silence between Dream falling and Technoblade lowering his hand, leaning over the edge with a deep frown creasing his face.

George and Sapnap catch up to the Emperor of the Nether as he is aiming his crossbow and the point of Bad's sword catches George's eye as it disappears over the edge. Technoblade points the crossbow over the fortress edge, fires, and George screams, taking two running steps forward.

**"Dream! No!"**

Sapnap lunges, wrapping his arms around George and holding him back. George's feet scuff against the dark nether bricks and he whines, "Please, Dream," over and over.

"Let me  _ go, Sapnap!" _

Sapnap shakes his head against George's back, holding him tighter. "No, your Majesty, Invadedland still needs you." His voice breaks at the end.

Technoblade jolts, finger squeezing the lock on his crossbow and it goes flying down towards the ledge below. His right eye blazes pink as it sharply lands on George, still weakly struggling in Sapnap's hold.

**_"What."_ **

* * *

Dream tries not to yell as wind rips through the spaces in his helmet, his descent quickening. _ It's not that far a drop,  _ he reasons.  _ I can make it, I have to. _ He protects his head with his arms— a moment before he hits the ground everything is  _ horrifyingly _ clear. He can hear George scream above him, can feel the heat radiating off the hot stone under him, he tastes blood on his tongue even before the impact— what good will it do when he doesn’t have armor to break his fall?

Instead, he hears  _ himself _ break.

He's been burned before. Fire hurts. He's broken bones before, it's almost the same. It's the same but he's never gotten used to it. This time… Dream sucks in a breath and tries to right his spinning head. An arm and a leg. That's okay, it's not like he  _ needed those. _

The fall knocked the air out of him, a strangled howl of pain and he lays on the rough netherrack for a blissfully agonizing second before the whistle of a crossbow bolt reminds him that he doesn't want to die.

He rolls to the left, narrowly avoiding the bolt as it sinks deep into the ground near his head. The pain spikes, flares of fiery heat ticking up his spine as he realizes he's rolled right onto his broken limbs.

This time a scream escapes him.

* * *

“I’m not a king!” George yells, struggling in earnest now, even though he knows he’ll never be able to get out of Sapnap’s hold.

“You—” Technoblade steps towards them, his gaze trained on George’s face. Sapnap walks them both backwards until they can’t anymore, wary of the tusked man with a weapon in his hand. “Did you say  _ Invadedland?” _

George glares at Technoblade. "What does it matter where I'm from?" He pushes his crown back up from where it’s slipping down his forehead.

Dream's scream suddenly makes it to his ears and he jolts, head snapping to the edge he’d fallen from. Sapnap tenses, skin prickling.

George turns his head abruptly, cheek pressed against Sapnap's nose as he demands again, "Let me go, I have to make sure Dream isn't  _ dead!" _ he hisses. No matter that it isn't his  _ job. _ No matter that if he’s… George can't do anything about it. He  _ has to know.  _ His heart thunders behind his ribs.

Technoblade puts his crossbow away quickly and holds out both his hands, as if to say  _ I've got no more weapons _ . 

"No, look, you don't understand, I have  _ an alliance _ with Invadedland. I know the rulers, King Skeppy and Queen Bad?" Technoblade explains, looking between George and Sapnap, then back to the crown sitting crookedly on George's head. George fixes it again.

"You know my parents and you  **_still tried to kill my knight?"_ ** George shouts. He turns his efforts away from trying to jump off the fortress after Dream and towards trying to slap the crown off Emperor Technoblade.

Sapnap hesitates before tightening his hold.

"I haven't seen them in  _ years, _ I didn't remember you! I don't even think they mentioned having a son with a knight. He was carrying your mother’s sword, I didn’t know what to think.” Technoblade looks remorseful, to his credit, but the fact still stands he tried to genuinely kill Dream. And he may have succeeded.

"Don't even think about getting my forgiveness." George points a finger at Technoblade. "I can end your alliance with  _ one word." _

“Then tell me what you want, I’ll give you near anything.”

George levels Technoblade with an acidic stare. “You stay right where you are while I make sure my royal knight isn’t dead and bleeding in this  _ hellhole.” _

He pushes out of Sapnap’s arms, and he lets him, smoothing down the loose yellow shirt he’s wearing and righting his crown. “Then I will come back and we will talk, royalty to royalty, and you will under no circumstances attempt to lay a finger on any of us or you will lose your head, like you so desperately wanted from  _ me.” _

Dream is motionless but still breathing when Sapnap picks his way carefully down the netherrack to where he’d fallen. He runs to him the second it’s safe to, falling to his knees and eyes darting over his body. Blood has seeped into his sleeve and his pant leg, he’s no doubt bruised and Sapnap is more than certain he’s broken bones.

He glances up at the fortress, gauging the height of the fall and sees George peeking over the ledge at them. He hadn’t been allowed down, Sapnap not knowing how stable the way down would be, and figuring it would be easier to have him freak out in the overworld.

Because Dream’s injuries  _ are _ something to freak out about. His breathing is shallow and labored, eyes screwed shut in pain. Sapnap prays that he hasn’t hit his head as he slowly eases Dream into a sitting position. Dream groans, his eyes fluttering open for a second before he winces and shuts them. 

“George,” he mutters, and Sapnap shakes his head.

“It’s me, Dream, it’s Sapnap,” he gathers Dream into his arms and winces at his groans. “We’re gonna get you back to camp and fix you up, okay?” Sapnap mutters assurances to him as he stands up carefully and begins to climb back up to the fortress. Dream’s still breathing like he’s just run a marathon and every exhale is accompanied by a whine of pain.

Sapnap cradles the knight to his chest as he walks up to where George is worrying a hole into his cape.

“He’s alive?” George whispers, looking like he wants to step closer but he doesn’t. Sapnap nods, looking past George at Technoblade, who’s leaning against the fortress wall and swinging his sword around aimlessly.

“Time to go, your Grace, do what you need to,” Sapnap urges, nodding towards the Emperor.

* * *

George leads the way back to the portal, Technoblade walking beside them as George explains all they need for their trip to the End. He gives them a leather sack full of ender eyes, golden blaze powder dusting out of it when George opens it, and an old map, smooth with wear and faded from time.

“This is a map to the End portal,” Technoblade explains, tapping the square in the middle of a big island across the sea from where they are. The little purple rectangle that’s smeared on one edge is obviously the Nether portal.

George scans the map a little more closely, seeing three decent sized islands between them and the bigger island. Technoblade jabs his finger at a little blob on the coast, almost hidden under the trees.

“This is my dock, it has a boat. I never use it,” he says. “It’ll cut plenty of time off your journey if you don’t have to make your own boat.” George nods sharpy, glancing at Sapnap, who’s moved Dream from his arms to his back. He can see the light from the portal now, they’re almost there.

“Alright. Eyes, map, boat, that should be all.” After a second, George jogs up to Sapnap and stands up on his tiptoes, reaching into his backpack and sifts through it. He pulls out a handful of gold nuggets. “Here, for your troubles,” he says.

Technoblade’s eyes are glued to the gold, cupping his hands around the small pile. George hears snuffling and squeals nearby, a sign of piglins. They must have some sixth sense for gold, George thinks as a troop of them round a corner. His heart rate picks up. Jogging over to Sapnap, he sends a curt wave to Technoblade.

“Our alliance stays,” he shouts. “... For now,” he tacks on quietly.

The portal is loud as they stand in front of it. Sapnap shifts Dream’s near-unconscious body on his back. “Let’s go quick, we have to get Sir Dream cleaned up and—”

George gives him a shaky nod. He still hasn’t looked at Dream for more than a fleeting moment, keeps his eyes towards the floor or the ceiling. He has to keep it together.

Their camp is still intact and untouched when they emerge from the portal and make their way towards it. Sapnap doesn’t waste any time crawling into his tent and laying Dream down on his sleeping bag. It’s going to get  _ soaked _ , George wants to point out, but he knows that’s the last thing Sapnap cares about. He slides Dream’s boots off first and his eyes snap open with a gasp.

George cringes at the shout that escapes Dream’s mouth. He clenches his mouth shut but the other two know how much pain he’s in.

“Dream, your leg’s broken,” Sapnap says, only confirming what was assumed. “I’ll have to check your arm too, but I’m going to bandage and splint your leg first, okay?” He sets Dream’s bloodied boots aside and starts rummaging through his backpack for a shirt he can use to bandage.

Dream whines, squirming uncomfortably. Sapnap moves closer. “Dream. Sir Dream? I need you to talk to me.”

Dream hisses through his teeth. “Yes, Sapnap,  _ splint my leg already,” _ he says forcefully. Sapnap nods, already tearing his shirt into strips. He turns to George, who’s hovering in the doorway, and points outside.

“Go get a bucket, there’s one by the fire. Between here and the portal is a creek, I need you to fill the bucket with water from where the creek is running. Okay?”

George nods. His eyes flick to Dream’s face, scrunched up in pain. For a second he’s frozen there, like it’s the first time he’s seeing him.

_ Oh. _

Sapnap looks back at Dream too, trapped in a silent moment of realization that this is the first time either of them have seen his face.

Sapnap waves George away, blinking himself back to the situation at hand. “George, we need that water soon, go,” he urges. George leaves quietly and Sapnap scoots over to Dream’s arm, prepared to check how bad his injury there is.

“Dream?” he asks quietly. He leans over him, taking in the blonde hair that’s plastered to his forehead from sweat and humidity, the tight frown as he tries to quell his pain, eyes shut tightly. Sapnap thinks he’s beautiful.

Dream peeks through his eyelashes at Sapnap, his frown quickly turning into a glare.

“I need you to splint my leg now, Sapnap, we can’t keep wasting time,” he grits out and tries to push himself into a sitting position. He winces as pressure is put on his bad arm and falls back.

Sapnap puts a hand on his arm. “Don’t move, His Highness will be back with water and I can clean your wound.  _ Then _ I will splint it.” He goes back to ripping his shirt up for an acceptable bandage and George ducks into the tent with the bucket full and water sloshing over the sides as he moves.

Dream tries to sit up again, this time only using his good arm.

“Well, hurry up, we’re losing daylight.” He’s snappy, despite his words running together from the pain and the way his eyes squint when he shifts. Sapnap half glares at him, dipping the remnants of his shirt in the water and dabbing at Dream’s leg.

He shrieks, making George jump and Sapnap pause.

“It’s just cold,” Dream hisses.

Sapnap works slowly, more carefully, anyway.

Once the wound is clean he starts wrapping it with bandages, trying as hard as he can not to move Dream’s leg too much.

“Stop treating me like I’m made of glass, just get it done so we can get to the coast.”

George frowns, glancing over at Dream and pinning him with his gaze.

“What makes you think we’re going to keep going? We’re staying here for the night, at the very least. You need to heal.” George puts on his best royal tone, the one Dream usually can’t say no to.

Dream glares at George, barely even registering when Sapnap ties off the bandages on his splint and moves to roll up the sleeve of his injured arm.

“No. We’re going till sunset. We can make it to the coast and camp by Technoblade’s dock.”

George rolls his eyes.

“You say that like you have a say in it.”

Dream scoffs, face flinching when Sapnap dabs at his arm with a wet cloth.

“How about we stop arguing and listen to the one who’s dressing the wounds?” Sapnap suggests. “I say we stay here for the night, it’s already far past noon and you are not walking on that leg, Dream.”

Dream slams his fist on the ground, whipping around to glare now at Sapnap.

“I don’t appreciate you two ganging up on me. I just saved your asses in the Nether and now you’re making me sit back? I can do this.  _ I have to do this.  _ You two don’t think I can fight anymore? It’s my job! I almost drowned! I fought zombies and strays and Technoblade himself and  _ I am not dead!” _ Dream has to heave in a few breaths before he starts again.

“I’m not useless.”

“No one is saying you are, Sir Dream.” Sapnap snaps a branch in half to splint Dream’s arm. “You have a broken limb. Even the strongest knights can’t just walk that off.”

“I  _ am _ the… “ Dream bites his lip, turning his face downwards.

“Okay, brace yourself, this is gonna really hurt,” Sapnap speaks up, and he grabs Dream’s forearm gently with both his hands, feeling up and down for any breaks. Dream yelps, biting down on his tongue to shut himself up. Sapnap figures the arm is at worst fractured and at best sprained and bruised. It’s swelled up at the wrist, red and slowly turning purple.

He frowns, glancing up at Dream once and seeing his face turned away and down. He goes back to wrapping and splinting Dream’s arm as quickly and safely as he can.

“Let me go, I’ll sleep in my own tent, we can… we can leave at dawn,” Dream says, pulling his arm away with difficulty.

George stays when Sapnap leaves the tent, content with Dream’s bandages and muttering about making dinner. He doesn’t move, just watches Dream pick at the pilling on Sapnap’s blanket.

* * *

Dream and George sit silently in Sapnap’s tent, waiting for him to come back and announce that dinner is done. George’s eyes keep darting to Dream, unable to pry them away from his face now that he’s seen it.

“You know,” Dream starts, now that he’s had some time to calm from the initial adrenaline, “I am kind of hurting right now, and you two  _ said _ I shouldn’t be walking…”

George’s gaze is focused on Dream’s eyes, the words spilling from his nervous mouth not quite pulling his attention yet.

“It’s actually kind of comfy in Sapnap’s tent, like-” Dream trails, now picking at the blankets out of nerves, “we could just sleep in here. We’d probably stay a lot warmer.”

George’s face heats up as he finally clues into the conversation, “What?”

“Uh- Never- nevermind. Let’s just wait for dinner.” Dream’s face is lit up bright red in patches, his ears seeming an impossible shade and-

“You are so pretty,” the words escape George’s mouth in awe.

Dream’s face snaps up to look directly at George. His eyes are wide open in shock, his mouth making a small “o” shape. 

“I mean, like purely from the fact that I’ve never seen you before, you’re nothing to marvel at,” George rambles, adjusting his crown and pointing his head up to look down his nose at Dream.

“ _ George~ _ ” Dream teases.

“Do not-”

The tent door opens and Sapnap sticks his head in, “Hey dinners- Hi George- ready.”

“Shut up.”

“All I said was-”

“Don’t.”

* * *

After dinner, Sapnap returns from the creek, having cleaned their dishes. George and Dream remain in his tent, talking quietly.

“You are very insistent on us all sleeping in Sir Sapnap’s tent,” George mutters as Sapnap ducks back into the tent. The sun is low on the horizon, the campfire doing most of the job lighting up the tent.

“Wait, what?” Sapnap laughs, looking between the two of them.

Dream sits upright, his weight leaned on his good arm, still sitting on Sapnap’s sleeping sack, George sits cross legged next to the tent entrance.

“I just think it would be easiest if all of us slept in your tent,” Dream says, his eyes glancing between Sapnap and George, as if asking for one of them to back him up.

“Sir Dream you are sitting in a dried pool of your own blood,” George points out.

Dream’s face is hard to see clearly in the dim light, but his ears are red.

“Don’t worry, I can clean it up.” Sapnap wraps Dream’s good arm around his shoulders and hoists him up enough to take the messy sleeping bag from under him. “I’ll go grab your guys’s stuff and we can have a slumber party.”

“Don’t forget my sleeping gown-”

“You,” Sapnap turns to George, “are pushing it.”

When the three of them have situated themselves, the sound of the campfire crackling quietly just outside the tent, and the ocean far along outside the forest crashing its waves.

“What color are your eyes, Sir Dream?” George asks quietly into the still air.

Dream makes a noise from next to George as he turns his head, “Why do you  _ care _ ?”

“You sound grumpy, did I wake you?”

Dream groans, and then sighs. “No.”

“They’re green,” Sapnap says from Dream’s other side.

George hums for a moment. “I could have sworn they were golden.”

“Well you would have sworn wrong, now stop talking about my face and go to bed.” Dream turns again and then mumbles, “Weirdo.”

“Sir Dream,” George starts and Dream groans again, louder this time, and turns back. “You’ve just called the Prince of Invadedland a ‘ _ weirdo’ _ .”

“Yes and I’m going to kill you, shut up.”

George gasps, faking offence.

“My head is pounding, your Highness, can we go to sleep?” Dream’s voice tapers off into a mumble as he sinks further into the nest of blankets Sapnap made for the three of them.

Sapnap rises suddenly, “Do you have a concussion?!” He climbs on top of Dream, grabbing his face in his hand, “I forgot to check- I should have shone a light in your eyes, or made you count-”

Dream tries his best with his arms to push Sapnap off of himself, stretching his neck to keep Sapnap from poking at it and gazing closely into his eyes. “Get  _ off _ of me!”

“No, no, no, I need to check for a concussion, how many fingers am I holding up?”

“ _ Sapnap it’s fucking pitch black in here I can’t see a thing _ _!_ I’m fine!” Dream pushes at Sapnap again and he finally relents, falling off of Dream back to his side. 

“I’ll check in the morning.”

George can hear the smile in Sapnap’s voice. He’d like to say he doesn’t care so much about the feeling of Dream laying next to him, but he’d be lying.

* * *

Sapnap packs up their camp, Dream and George sitting side by side on the fallen tree, watching as Sapnap bounces around. George jokes about Sapnap forgetting a stake and an axe artfully lands in the log next to him. 

Dream stares closely at the map in his hands, “So if we start pretty soon we can be there within the next couple of hours. Shouldn’t be too far. Then we boat to the closest island- here this map says ‘ _ flower island _ ’... I’m not too sure what that means if I’m being honest, but that will be our first stop.”

“We’re stopping at each island?” George asks, leaning over Dream’s shoulder to look at the map. He’d never been able to see it before, under the armor, but Dream wears a green strip of cloth around his neck. 

“Yeah, Sapnap rowing our boat will probably tire him out- I don’t know actually, I’ve never rowed a boat. Sapnap how far do you think-”

“We are stopping at each island,” Sapnap grunts as he packs the tents together, tightly into one. 

“But doesn’t that take more time-”

Sapnap cuts George off, turning to the two sitting leisurely on the tree, “I am carrying literally all of the supplies, Dream, and then rowing all three of us to an island. If you would like to help out, your Grace, then  _ by all means _ help yourself.”

George’s mouth snap’s shut and Dream’s lips curl into a smile.

From this close to him, George’s head just above Dream’s shoulder, he can see freckles scattered all around his face, trailing down his neck. George rests his chin on Dream’s shoulder, it much softer than his metal armor would ever be.

Dream’s entire body stiffens. George smiles when the bright red splotchy blush returns.

After breakfast they start on their way to the ocean. George carries his mother’s sword, and Sapnap carries… everything else. Including Dream.

The team starts off south, their trip much slower than Dream would like, Sapnap laboring to keep an even pace with George even. The soft forest floor squishes beneath their boots and George watches his steps, not wanting to risk tripping. Sapnap would surely drop Dream to catch him. 

“George this is so funny,” Sapnap says, adjusting Dream’s arm clinging to his broad shoulders. 

“Why is this funny?” George tries to keep his tone even but it does come out as an accusation.

“You were the one who kept begging to be carried, now look at us.”

George stops, and looks at the two of them. Dream’s brows furrowed in anger or concentration and Sapnap sweating profusely. 

“I can jump on your other shoulder.”

“Your Majesty, do not joke about that, I  _ will _ fall over.”

They reach the dock eventually, the forest reaching the very edge of the shoreline, George is surprised when the ocean finally breaks through.

It’s massive.

The biggest expanse of blue George has ever seen. Wide, infinite, unending… Insane.

Sapnap treats it as if it’s nothing, he sets Dream down on the dock, and starts unloading their supplies into the boat. Dream watches George as his eyes widen and he looks across the ocean in one direction, and then the other, as if scanning for an ending.

There isn’t one.

Not one in sight, anyway. 

The waves rise and fall in the distance, coming racing closer, crashing against rocks and tapering into nothing as it stretches and inches closer to the base of the trees. 

“What?” Sapnap laughs, joining Dream in watching George, “Haven’t you ever seen the ocean before?”

George is breathless, the smell of salt almost overpowering now. “No.”

Sapnap’s laughter stops for a moment, “You’re kidding.”

“You grew up right by one,” Dream states.

“I grew up on the other side of a mountain right by one. I don’t know if you two have forgotten but I  _ never _ left that castle.”

Sapnap’s quiet for a moment, and then he moves to stand next to George, their shoulders touching as he looks out at the ocean as well. He leaves Dream on the dock, his legs dangling off. “It is beautiful,” Sapnap smiles, holding a hand up to shield his eyes as he looks at the horizon, “isn’t it?”

George’s mouth hangs open but he can’t find the words to explain what’s going through his mind. 

They stay like that for a few minutes. 

And then they’re off again, Dream sitting in the back of the boat with their supplies, Sapnap taking the oars in the middle, and George holding their map and compass at the front of the boat. Dream had  _ wanted _ to give directions, but George was unable to accept sitting anywhere other than the front of the boat, so he could look out across the ocean.

The boat rises and falls with the waves, Sapnap grunting and focusing on getting the boat where it needs to go. George screams about water getting on his cape at some point and Sapnap splashes more water at him. 

The ride is calm, for the most part, when something hits the bottom of the boat, rocking it.

George ignores it at first, assuming it was a wave or rock, but the worried expressions on Sapnap and Dream’s faces break his misplaced confidence. 

“Sir Dream,” Sapnap struggles, “my bow should be with the bags at your feet-”

“On it,” Dream reaches into the bags, pulling Sapnap’s bow and quiver, arming himself and nocking an arrow with much effort.

“What’s-” George swallows nervously, “What’s going on?”

“Drowned,” Dream says darkly at the same time Sapnap struggles to say, “Gurglers.”

“Right… and those are…”

“Dangerous,” Dream says simply, his gaze laser focused on the water. Something bright shimmers from under the water and Dream releases the arrow, punching the air when the light disappears.

George’s heart is racing, he wants to look over the edge, but he stays glued to his seat.

Something breaches the water, something aqua flying through the air, over the boat. It pierces the water on their other side.

George yelps, jumping back into Sapnap, all but forgetting his navigation duty. “WHAT WAS THAT?!”

“A trident,” Dream shoots another arrow into the water, and Sapnap’s gaze narrows on the colorful island in the distance.

Their boat trip goes without any more hitches.

Sapnap all but collapses onto the island, helping Dream out of the boat but not caring to unload their supplies just yet.


	6. sweater weather

Eventually Sapnap had set up their camp, Dream had tried to help but was annexed to sitting on the plush grass with George. The sun was getting lower by the minute, though not quite setting yet. 

“This island is beautiful,” Dream laments, a faint buzzing noise passes their ears every once in a while, usually completely drowned out by the ocean’s crashing waves. Giant pillars of flowers reach high into the sky.

Every color imaginable, blooming nature reaching for the sun and sky. The bases of the flowers seem to be thick as tree trunks, and the tops of them providing little shelter from whatever rainfall may happen that night.

“Not as beautiful as you,” Sapnap calls, sitting by their campfire, focusing his eyes on starting it. His tongue sticks out of his mouth, bit between his teeth in concentration.

George giggles when Dream’s face lights up again. His grumpy look now one of… well something George can’t quite place his finger on. Dream’s eyes dart from the tall flowertops to Sapnap, and then to the ground, by his feet.

George stands and approaches one of the giant stems, and runs his hand down it, surprised that it has hair growing from it. He jumps back, and inspects his hand as if it’s changed somehow.

Dream cocks his head to the side, watching George. “You’ve only seen the garden at the castle, huh.”

It’s not a question, but George pretends that it is, “Yes… The roses and sunflowers… Once my father brought home a few alliums, but they only lasted a week. I’ve certainly never seen anything like…” George cranes his neck, following the stem of the flower up to the top, “ _ this _ .”

“Back in my homeland, there’s only cactus and dead bushes,” Sapnap backs away from the campfire, joining Dream in sitting on the grass.

“What’s that like?” George asks, backing away from the flower and sitting by the fire as well. 

“Dead bushes and cactus?”

“No, Sir Sapnap… What’s your home like?”

Sapnap takes a deep breath, and leans back, laying flat on the grass. “It’s warm.”

Dream snickers.

“Please, Sir Sapnap, keep going.”

Sapnap throws his arms out, as if making a snow angel in the grass. “Well it’s technically a desert. There’s not too much water, mostly sand, very little uh…  _ foliage _ , I think that’s the word, I don’t know.” 

George runs his hands through the soft grass, listening intently. Dream stares into the fire as the sun begins setting.

“There’s barely any people where I’m from compared to Invadedland… Even Citrus City has more people than my village.”

Dream tenses when Sapnap says that, his face turning darker.

“You know,” Sapnap raises his head enough to look at George, “I think you’d really like it there. It’s like… the opposite of the castle.” He drops his head back down and crosses his arms under it. “We have these tiny sandstone and clay buildings. I’m the only person who really cares to go exploring, nobody else is really around my age. They’re all a bit older and don’t really care to leave too often. I’ve been to L’manburg a few times with my mom, but other than that everyone mostly just lives quietly…”

The sky’s painted golden orange with pink streaks fighting through, the sun’s low and sinking lower past the ocean with each moment. A bee the size of Dream’s head floats past him, towards a hive hanging from a flower.

“It’s peaceful.”

George nods, “It sounds nice. I’d like to see it someday.”

Sapnap leans up and smiles at George. "What about you, Sir Dream?" Sapnap lays back down.

"What about me?" His tone is harsh and face is angry, his gaze piercing the fire.

"What's it like where you're from?" Sapnap plucks a longer blade of grass and begins to chew on it.

Dream's eyes follow the flames, up to the sky. George can't help but feel guilty for not knowing where Dream's from.

"I'm from Citrus City."

Sapnap shoots up, the blade of grass falling from his mouth as he climbs to his knees, getting closer to dream. “No freaking way-”

George’s fingers find their way to his cape, the soft fabric providing some sort of comfort from the anxiety that rises in him. “You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to…”

Dream shrugs his shoulders, turning his gaze from the sky to look directly into George’s eyes. It’s like time stands still. The only moving things being the faint buzzing, fire popping and ocean crashing. He’s breathless, weightless even.

Dream’s face is soft now, a shadow of a smile on his lips.

“It’s whatever, I haven't been back there since before I was eighteen.”

“Isn’t that when you became my knight?”

Dream smiles at George, his eyes crinkling shut and a laugh rocking his shoulders, “Yeah… I’m surprised you remember.”

“Wait-” Sapnap lumbers forward and falls onto his stomach, directly between the two of them, “ow- How old are you now then? Like… how long have you two been like… together?”

Dream laughs more and ruffles his hand in Sapnap’s hair, the panda skin and cowboy hat set somewhere inside his tent. “Long enough to know George really fucking loves blueberry jam.”

George’s mouth drops open, his jaw hanging dumbly.

“And he likes taking walks to get lost in his thoughts… Actually he gets lost in his thoughts often. He doesn’t pay attention in his royal meetings, but if he hears about a flower or a monster or a biome he doesn’t know about then he’ll head right to the library and scour countless books. It’s kind of scary sometimes actually.”

Sapnap rolls over so he’s pressed up against Dream, and looking at George.

“He also hates any kind of combat. Like at first the King and Queen wanted him to learn archery and he just flat out refused. Then they wanted him to learn alchemy with potions and that turned out… Well you can assume how that went.”

Sapnap laughs, and George feels… warm?

“And finally they decided he would learn swordsman-”

George hears it first, a buzzing sound unlike any buzzing sound he’d ever heard before. He jumps up, and Sapnap rises twice as quickly, grabbing George’s hands and pulling him into himself, away from the sizzling sound.

A deafening explosion sounds, chunks of dirt flying up into the air

George’s heart is thundering and he feels woozy, glad Sapnap holds him so close or else he would surely fall to the round. Dream attempts to rise to his feet, only stumbling and falling down, letting out an agonizing scream. 

“Sir Dream, stay seated,” Sapnap orders. He loosens his grip on George, backing away enough to look into his eyes, “Your Highness… Are you-”

“WHAT IN INVADEDLAND WAS THAT?!” He has surprised tears pooling in his eyes.

Sapnap pulls him back into a hug, squeezing him tighter than he’d ever been held before.

“You’re okay, George.”

“I think you two should go to bed, I can watch for the creepers,” Dream says.

Sapnap rolls his eyes.

“Yeah, as if. You can’t even walk by yourself, Sir Dream. These things only attack if they can see you. We’ll be fine to just go to bed tonight. Nobody should be coming by to rob us and creepers are the only dangerous thing here.”

“How do you know that they’re the only danger here?” George asks, his voice muffled into Sapnap’s chest.

“I mean… We haven’t been attacked by anything else yet,” Sapnap smiles at the two.

George nods, feeling only slightly reassured. He trusts that Sapnap isn’t lying to them, and it would be good for all of them to get more sleep.

He has half a mind to suggest they all sleep in Sapnap’s tent together again, but it’s clear he doesn’t need to as Sapnap leads them into George’s own tent. He leaves and comes back supporting Dream over his shoulder.

“Figured it would be good for all of us,” Sapnap mumbles, almost under his breath. Dream snorts at that, shaking his head almost fondly. “Might make  _ His Grace _ feel safer, anyway.”

George groans at the title, sure that he’ll never hear the proper one come out of Sapnap’s mouth.

“Whatever, I just don’t want to get blown up in my sleep,” he says hastily, wiggling into his sleeping bag and watching the other two get comfortable.

“Stop worrying, Your Highness, nothing’s going to happen to you while you sleep,” Dream assures him, a conviction in his voice unlike anything George has heard before. They quiet down and the silence stretches a few moments before:

_ “I promise.” _

And Dream speaks it into the darkening tent like a spell.

* * *

The morning brings a pleasant light into the tent and a frenzied buzzing of the giant bees that George wakes up to. He rubs the sleep from his eyes and finds that Dream is, surprisingly, still asleep. He pokes his head out of the tent and sees Sapnap folding up his tent, the remains of a morning fire smoldering not too far away.

Sapnap notices he’s awake and drops the now rolled up tent beside the rest of the supplies. “Breakfast is by the fire,” he says softly. “I’m gonna wake up Dream and change his bandages.”

With a nod George emerges, smiling softly at the warm sunlight. He eats quickly, listening to Dream’s annoyed noises as Sapnap tries to clean his wounds and re-wrap them as quickly as he can.

“Just eat something and we can go,” Sapnap gripes as he half-drags Dream out of the tent. “I’ll go get the boat packed.” He sets Dream down next to George and piles the supplies on himself, trudging off through the flowers to where he’d beached the boat overnight.

“Hey, George.” George looks at Dream out of the corner of his eye.  _ “Your Highness,” _ Dream corrects himself stiffly. George keeps eating, not sure how to bring up the fact that he doesn’t really mind Dream calling him by his name at this point.

“You were, uh, I mean.  _ Ahem. _ Are you okay from last night…?” Dream trails off so badly at the end George nearly doesn’t hear what he says.

“Yes, Sir Dream, I’m okay. It was just frightening. What kind of monster  _ explodes itself?” _ He says. “I’ve read a little about them but I didn’t think they’d be so…”

“Scary?” Dream guesses. “Yeah, creepers are pretty bad. Hopefully we won’t run into too many, though.” He smiles weakly at George and gets one back.  _ Cute, _ Dream thinks, unprompted.

Sapnap returns from the boat to see Dream trying to walk George through disassembling the tent from where he’s sitting. George looks hopelessly lost and he’s sure Dream is choking down laughs as he watches.

“I’ll save you, George!” Sapnap shouts, sweeping George off his feet dramatically and spinning him around.

Dream lets his laugh go, then, smiling so wide his eyes crinkle into happy crescents and he leans back, almost falling over with mirth.

Sapnap stops, holding George to his chest, and gapes at Dream. “Oh my god,” he breathes quietly, “That’s so cute.”

George does him the honor of pretending he doesn’t hear, but the words still bring a faint flush to his cheeks.

“Dream, I know we’re adorable but you don’t have to be so happy about it,” Sapnap teases, letting George down and crouching by the tent to pack it up properly.

“Let’s get going then, so I don’t have to watch you two be ‘adorable.’” Dream puts air quotes around the word, wincing when his left hand cramps up from the movement.

* * *

Dream leans against the back of the boat, rocked by the waves into a state of relaxation. He listens to George talk about all the ocean facts he’s read over the years from the library. He watches Sapnap’s arm muscles flex with every stroke of his oars, pushing against the waves, current and breeze.

“George, what’s the closest island?” Sapnap asks, his voice tight with exertion. George fumbles with the map for a second, glancing up to the horizon, to his small compass, and back to the map.

“Well, um, I thought it was the mushroom island but the current is taking us to the sandbar,” George says, guilt somehow making its way into his voice.

Dream frowns slightly, looking past Sapnap to the prince, perched at the bow of the boat.

“Why do you say that like it’s your fault?” he asks. “You don’t control the current.”

“It just means more work for Sir Sapnap, and nobody wants that,” George defends. Sapnap grins, looking to Dream and raising his eyebrows. Dream starts to smile too, feeling his cheeks heat up under Sapnap’s gaze.

“What are you smiling about, oh my god,” George says, leaning around Sapnap’s head. Dream looks like he’s been caught in the middle of something heinous, going even redder.

“I— well, it’s just that you’re  _ soooo gorgeous, _ Your Highness George, I don’t know what to do with myself!” Dream deflects, faking a faint and leaning on the supplies propping him up.

“Stop it, you’re not being funny!” George pouts. “Sapnap’s literally the only one who can row this boat.”

Sapnap chuckles. “Boys, stop fighting over me,” he says. “It’ll probably be sundown when we get there, right George?”

George scoffs, “Nobody was fighting over you,” he mumbles. “Yeah, probably. What terrifying monster will we find on a sandbar, Sapnap? Man-eating turtles? Ghost pirates?”

Dream laughs out loud at that, dissolving into a wheeze as the other two look on in confusion.

“Ghost pirates!” Dream says in disbelief. “No,” he shakes his head. “It’ll probably be skeletons or spiders.” He sounds awfully serious. “They like sand, I think. Right, Sapnap?”

Sapnap nods. “I mean, yeah, I see them all the time at home,” he agrees.

“Great,” George groans. “I don’t know which I’m looking forward to  _ less.” _

It’s relatively quiet the rest of the way to the sandbar and Sapnap sighs heavily when the boat finally hits sand. He dumps everything out of the boat before dragging it out of the water and glancing around their surroundings.

Dream grabs Bad’s sword off the sand and uses it as a crutch to push himself to standing, pointing off into the dying light. “Look! There’s a shipwreck over there,” he says. The other two turn and, sure enough, there’s a giant wooden ship overturned in the distance.

Sapnap throws his hands up in the air. “Shelter! No tents tonight!” he rejoices and George can’t help but grin himself, impulsively grabbing Dream’s hand and clasping it between his own.

“Sapnap doesn’t have to make camp!” he says excitedly. “Come on! Let’s go inside! We can all relax tonight!”

Dream shakes his head at George’s enthusiasm, letting go of Bad’s sword as Sapnap reaches out to support thim. George even goes so far as to volunteer to carry the food pack and soon they’re on their way across the white sand towards the dark wood of the shipwreck.

Sapnap pulls out his axe and hacks a sizeable hole into the hull near the bow for them to crawl inside after inspecting the rest of it and realizing there’s no other way in. He pokes his head inside to check for monsters and declares it free from them, ushering the other two inside with the supplies.

“I’ll go and see if I can find some dry sticks,” Sapnap says, “and maybe food?” Dream nods to him and Sapnap disappears from the entrance. It’s pretty shadowy in the ship with no windows of any sort and no fire going so George scoots closer to the hole, and coincidentally closer to Dream.

Dream collects the fallen chips of wood that Sapnap hacked to bits and runs his fingers over them. “These might be dry enough to start a fire,” he says absently. “Your Highness, would you find me the flint and steel?” he asks, starting to draw a deep trough in the sand and tossing the sticks inside. “If it doesn’t burn we may have to use something else to start it.”

Dream takes the flint and steel and focuses on getting the sparks to take in the damp wood, brow furrowed in concentration. George peers at him, realizing suddenly that all those years he was wearing the helmet he  _ must have been _ just as expressive. It’s fascinating, watching the nuanced movements of his face.

Dream huffs in frustration after the wood defiantly refuses to be lit on fire.

_ “Fine, _ I guess we’ll use something else.” Dream leans back, crossing his arms, and eyes George for a second.

“What?” George snaps. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

Dream shrugs. “No reason. Maybe we should light some fabric…” George narrows his eyes dangerously.

“You are  _ not _ lighting any of my clothes on fire, Sir Dream!”

Dream grins at him. “Oh come on now,” he moves closer to George. “You wore Sapnap’s shirt earlier, you’ve got plenty. You  _ have _ to have something we can use.”

George wraps his cape around himself. “... No.” he says, voice small. “Wait, maybe?”

“Okay, fine!” George unclasps his cape and tosses it at Dream, hitting him in the face. Dream flails around, pulling the cape from his face and glancing at George, who’s sitting with his arms crossed and knees drawn up to his chin.

“Now get some light in here, it’s creepy and dark,” George says, a little louder than the space requires.

The rich, velveteen fabric sits heavy in Dream’s hands as he holds it over the sand pit. It feels almost like pouring liquid when it slips between his fingers and pools below.

_ Chik, chik, chik _ goes the flint and steel. As the fire starts, rain begins to fall outside, lightly hitting the wood over their heads.

Sapnap’s face is illuminated by a nice, orange glow when he returns. The fire is alive and being fed by new chunks of wood that Dream has pried off the ship. George is staring into the flames with a vacant gaze.

“Um. You two seem  _ off,” _ he notes. “Good news! I found dinner!” As he shuffles in through the hole he takes off his cowboy hat and shakes out his hair from the rain, pulling off his soaked white headband as he does. George wrinkles his nose.

“You’re like a dog, Sapnap. Who does that?”

Sapnap chuckles and focuses on pulling ‘dinner’ through behind him and into the ship.

It’s a spider.

It’s a huge, terrifying thing that looks like it could still jump up at any time and attack George, so he screams and grabs onto Dream’s arm, thankfully not the one that’s splinted and healing.

Dream gasps, jumping at the sight of the thing and Sapnap just stands, hands on his hips, and watches the two work out their dramatics.

“It’s dead,” he says flatly.

Dream gently pries George’s hands off him and goes back to poking at the fire. “Yeah, I know that,” he says easily, as if he wasn’t also put off by the thing. “So where’s dinner?”

Sapnap snorts. “This  _ is _ dinner, dummy,” he says happily and drags it over to the fire. George looks like the life has been sucked out of him, eyes wide in shock. He looks so pale Dream thinks he might faint.

“Absolutely not.”

Sapnap breaks off one of the spider’s legs, sets it on the flat edge of his axe and holds the axe out over the fire. “Fine, no food for you, then,” he says, side-eyeing George while the meat cooks.

“It tastes just like chicken, we eat this all the time back home.”

“That’s disgusting,” George’s face twists even further up in disgust.

“That’s embarrassing, keep that to yourself,” Dream states.

Sapnap groans, “I went through the trouble of getting this for dinner and this is how you babies act? It’s literally just meat. I could have prepared it outside the boat and you two wouldn’t have known the difference.”

“But you didn’t and now we know,” Dream says. 

Sapnap shakes the leg on the axe, trying to get it seared through.

“Why do you eat spiders in your homeland?” George keeps a watchful eye on the spider carcass, but also is intent to hear any little fact about where Sapnap comes from.

“There’s a lot of them there.”

“Well-  _ yeah. _ But I mean of all the things you can eat there, why fucking spiders?” George watches with apprehension as Sapnap flips the leg over.

Sapnap shrugs, “We’re mostly vegan where I’m from, there isn’t really any natural wildlife close to the village so we mainly sustain ourselves on what we farm. Then we get animals and animal products from Invadedland when me and my moms go to trade with the villagers from there. Of the living things around my village, the women of my village are all… human so I’m not going to eat them, and the creepers around there explode and the skeletons don't have any meat.”

“Wait,” Dream cuts in, “you live in like a matriarchal society?”

“What does that mean?”

George rolls his eyes, “A kingdom run by women.”

“Uh…” Sapnap removes the spider leg from the fire and Dream and George both duck away from it, “I guess? We’re not big enough to be a kingdom, it’s just the twenty-six… uh… five… of us.” The group goes quiet for a moment.

“So are you all related or something?” Dream asks.

“No, I don’t think so. I mean I have some aunts and cousins… But other than my moms I don’t really consider any of them family… Well no- Actually we’re all like a family but… I dunno.” Sapnap trails off and snaps the hard exoskeleton of the spider leg, making the other two jump, then rips his teeth into meat inside like an enormous crab leg.

George and Dream watch in horror. And awe.

“What about you, Sir Dream?” George asks, turning away from Sapnap eating the spider.

“What about me?”

“How big is your family?” George doesn’t want to admit it, but he knows very little about Dream’s past… He’s eager to gather every bit of information about it he can.

Dream’s eyes fall for a second, and his face changes. The atmosphere of the ship grows quiet once more, the sounds of Sapnap ripping messily into the spider’s leg overpowering and almost drowning out the rain and ocean.

“It doesn’t matter,” Dream states, brushing the awkward air aside. “I haven’t seen any of them in like five.”

“Why?” Sapnap asks, spitting a bit of his food, blissfully unaware.

Dream sighs, as if contemplating his next words and picking them out carefully, “I grew up in Citrus City, remember?”

The rainfall pours even harder than before and the fire pops, sending a still burning ember onto the sandy floor.

“What was that like?” Sapnap presses, though unintentionally.

“Everything was very open, but enclosed in it’s own walls at the same time. Your family was either subservient to the Lemon Goddess, or they… Well you know the rest.” Dream scoots back against the wall of the boat so he can lean against it, his face half-cast in the shadows. “Citrus City is Invadedland’s capital of crime after all… I had to sneak around a lot as a kid. I’d find cracks in the city’s walls and go off on adventures, returning with cool trinkets and stories to tell my little-... Whatever. It doesn’t matter. I left eventually and I… I haven’t looked back since.”

“Good riddance!” Sapnap cheers, waving the leg into the air, much to George’s dismay.

George is quiet for a moment, mulling over what Dream’s shared with him. A weird hot anxiety bubbling at the core of his being, he’s glad their ship keeps them safe from the rain pouring outside. “You know… I always thought we had very different childhoods. I grew up sheltered and confined to my castle, and you were obviously a lot more experienced with things from outside the castle.” 

He scoots back to sit with Dream against the side of the boat. “I never- I never  _ snuck out _ of the castle, but I would wander the halls at night until I was escorted back to my bedroom. I didn’t have any siblings to grow up with, but my mom and dad were always willing to put aside the kingdom’s needs to care for me. I had nannies assigned to me, and the knights passing through were generally pretty nice…”

Dream listens to George as Sapnap finishes his spider leg and stands.

“We actually had pretty similar childhoods I think.”

Sapnap approaches the ship’s hole with his axe. George feels something hot and uneasy swell inside himself, he can’t explain what it is, but he jumps to his feet.

“Sir Sapnap! What are you doing?!” He reaches a hand out, taking a step forward. Something not unlike fear filling him.

Sapnap looks at him quizzically, hefting his axe over his shoulder. “What do you mean? I’m going outside. I haven’t been able to be out in a rainstorm in a long time, it’ll be nice.”

George shakes his head frantically, grabbing onto Sapnap’s sleeve and trying to pull him away from the opening.

**_“No!”_ ** he almost shrieks. “You can’t go outside, not now!” Sapnap’s eyebrows pull together and he relaxes, dropping his axe so it rests in the sand at his feet.

“George,” he starts softly, reaching out and touching George’s hip.

“Please don’t, you—” George scrabbles for the words, the heat from before prickling behind his eyes, “You don’t understand, it’s not safe.” His words are forceful, a power behind them that’s coming from different place.

“It’s just rain, George, surely your books have told you that rain’s harmless.” Sapnap lifts George’s hand from him with ease and turns on his heel, taking a step towards the opening in the ship.

George lunges forward, slamming into Sapnap from behind and wrapping his arms desperately around his waist. A sob tears itself from his throat and Sapnap feels the back of his shirt go wet suddenly, warm and foreign.

“Please, please, no, I’m begging you, you’re—” George sobs again, loud in the ship like he’s screaming it. Sapnap starts to feel guilty, about to turn around and hug George back before the world outside explodes into a blinding blue light, a thundering crack tearing open in the sky for just a moment. It’s a complete overload of his senses and just as soon as it’s there, it’s gone again.

The world is silent. 

Sapnap stares at the spot just outside the ship where  _ lightning _ had struck, the fine sand turned to a warped, blackened chunk of glass from the intense heat. His ears are ringing from the loud thunder. George is shaking.

“George…?” Sapnap looks behind him, finally turning to hold his hands on George’s hips. “How did you-”

He’s cut off when George presses himself into Sapnap’s chest, anxiety melting away with Sapnap’s warm and tight embrace.

The world stands still for a moment.

Sapnap moves one hand from George’s hips, holding his chin angling George’s face to look into his eyes.

“Sir Sapnap,” George’s voice is weak, his eyelashes wet from tears.

“Yes?”

“Kiss me.”

“As you wish.” 

He leans down and connects their lips. Like the waves crashing, it’s magic. 

George lets Sapnap kiss him for seconds longer, moving against him and  _ so warm, _ before he pulls away, gasping, and gazes up at Sapnap, his hands fisted in his shirt. A beat of silence.

"We should… um—” George sputters. He blinks, lips still parted and tingling. "I mean—” He's red from ear to ear, can hear the pounding of his heart in his ears. Sapnap's hand around his waist tightens, pulling him flush against his chest.

"George,” he whispers. George wants to kiss him again. He wants to push him away. He wants to hide his face in his cape and pretend he can't feel Dream's eyes on them but he doesn't  _ have _ his cape and Dream  _ is  _ staring.

Sapnap's mouth hangs open and it seems like neither of them can form full sentences right now. George lowers himself from his tiptoes and unclenches his hands from Sapnap's shirt. He has to break this tension somehow, it’s oppressive and unbearable and he can still feel Dream’s watchful gaze  _ piercing him _ from behind.

But he's a  _ prince, _ for crying out loud. He's been brought up from birth to carry himself with dignity. He can  _ do this. _ He pushes down the fluttering feeling in his stomach that demands to be addressed.

"We should all get some sleep," he says quietly. The spell is broken. Dream glances away. Sapnap’s hands slip away and George suppresses a shiver at the loss.

Dream huffs, “God you guys are gay.”

**Author's Note:**

> find the fic writers on twitter (@sapnoblade + @voiidvagabond) or on instagram (@george.a.benji + @voiid.vagabond)
> 
> Official Playlist (matches the chapter titles)  
> https://open.spotify.com/playlist/6AIABuNwxQKKelVxb7Ktls?si=TZwEmtybSq-Mx1GEXA0GQw
> 
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> https://discord.gg/kPYdCqq


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